


Summer Tumblr Fics!

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Adam (2009), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal (TV) RPF, Jagten | The Hunt (2012), The Three Musketeers (2011)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Facial, Fluff, GoT-ish AU, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semen Kink, Slight Asphyxiation, Spanking, Threesome, To add as I go, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 30,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the prompts, headcanons, and ficlets I create over on Tumblr for the months of June, July, and August.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chilly Willy

**Author's Note:**

> It was recently [Rdlenix](http://rdlenix.tumblr.com/)'s birthday, and I know how she loves Chilly Willy, so I wrote a little thing for her <3

Will mumbled in his sleeping state, one arm thrown up over his face as his toes curled in the sheets. They were smooth, smoother than his own, a much higher thread count, and for a moment he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why he wasn’t on his own sheets. He sighed, lifted his arm and opened his eyes, stared up at a white ceiling in a room that wasn’t his own. He rolled onto his side, looked at the open window, and for a moment couldn’t place where he was, why he was-

Then he heard it, a distant sound, singing muffled by many walls. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and grabbing the button down that was hunt over the arm of a plush chair in the bedroom. It wasn’t his own, but when he put it on it had a faint familiar sense, a calming one, and Will was smiling as he left it open, padding through one pristinely kept hallway- the walls rather barren, in simply the shirt and his underwear.

He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling to himself now, as the voice was in full force, a song Will didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. He leaned against the entrance way, folding his arms, watching as Fredrick moved with his back to him, singing to himself as if Will were miles away in Wolf Trap, and not standing silently in his kitchen.

When he finally ended, the song coming to a close, there was a brief moment of silence, before Will said very clearly, “I didn’t know you sing.”

Fredrick turned around, startled, and stared at Will with wide eyes. Will shifted his weight a little, looking at him through his wild curls and dark lashes, thinking Fredrick looked younger in the morning, when he was unguarded. Especially now. It took years from his face, eons from his eyes.

"On occasion," Fredrick finally said, "I didn’t mean to wake you up." Will stood up, crossing the kitchen and standing in front of him, slipping in arm up over one of his shoulders, fingers toying over the back of his neck.

"You didn’t," Will admitted, "I woke up on my own. How come you’ve never sung for me before?"

"I wouldn’t dream of it in someone else’s home." Will chuckled, leaning his forehead against Fredrick’s.

"Well you have my express permission to do so. Although, I apologize in advance if the dog’s join in." Fredrick smiled at that, and Will closed in, pressing his mouth to Fredrick’s for a slow kiss, opening his mouth and enjoying the pull of his lover’s lips against his own, the way Fredrick shivered when Will’s tongue dared to tip just into his mouth, before retreating. When Will pulled back, there was a flush to Fredrick’s cheeks, a fetching color that made Will want to lead him right back to bed and have him singing a more carnal song.

Instead he let him turn away, back to the counter, grabbing for his stark white mugs to pour them coffee. Will took advantage, wrapped his arms around him from behind, one hand splaying on his belly as he kissed the back of his neck.

"Sing something for me," he whispered, "Anything at all. I just want to hear you."

There was a stretch of silence, and Will thought Fredrick might deny him, before suddenly, quietly, he began, “I’ve heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord.”

Will pulled back, leaning against the small island counter, and closing his eyes as Fredrick took to his song, still facing away, but it didn’t matter. The empty house picked up his voice and let it carry, let it echo inside Will’s head and left him smiling, happily, thinking this would be the perfect way to wake up every morning.

Making him wish he had stayed the night at Fredrick’s so much sooner.


	2. How about Graham?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [Geneticallydead](http://geneticallydead.tumblr.com/)'s headcanon, "Headcanon that Hannibal finds a stray in Paris, and can’t help but take the dog in even though he’s never really wanted a dog. Because Will wouldn’t have let it wander the streets hungry."

Hannibal enjoyed the night air in Paris, enjoyed looking up at the night sky that seemed so different from the stars he had seen at home-

Baltimore. Not home.

Thinking of it at home would only remind him of the family he lost there.

He leaned forward on the bench, settled his arms along his thighs and clasped his hands together. He knew, in the back of his head, he should return to the hotel, Bedelia would be wondering what he had gotten into soon if he didn’t. And while her company was better than facing this new chapter alone, he stilled wished she was someone else, waiting for him.

Or better yet, sitting here with him, now.

Hannibal hard a small, sharp bark, and jerked his head to the side. A few yards away, a small dog was watching him, head cocked to the side. A little mutt, skinny little thing, with shaggy hair that looked as if it could use a bath, as if it had been out here for quite some time. Once upon another life, Hannibal wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now he found himself calling softly, leaning further down and holding his hand out. The pup hesitated, then trotted over, sniffing at his out stretched fingers and then licking the tips, tentatively. Hannibal waited until the dog nuzzled his palm, before he pet him, scratching him behind one of his floppy ears.

"Hello," he whispered, "Are you here all alone?" The dog’s tail wagged, and Hannibal knew the answer was a yes, felt rather childish for asking it of a dog. Felt not like himself when a creeping sadness came over him at the little thing out in the chilled night, with no food. 

He pursed his lips, stood up, bent down and reached for the dog. It let him gather it up against his chest, pawing for a moment at the buttons of his casual, lightly plaid shirt. He looked down, saw fur against the fabric and the dog’s dark eyes looking up at him, and he wasn’t inside his own head, but Will’s, caring for another stray, adding to his family.

Hannibal choked back his sob, squeezed the dog slightly, ho didn’t seem to mind, and began at a brisk walk for his hotel. He’d seen dogs with other guests, he knew they were allowed. Bedelia might look at him strangely, but he wasn’t going to leave it here, out on the streets. He knew what Will would have done, and he knew Bedelia would point that out. She had already raised her delicate eyebrows when he traded in his suits for plaid shirts, went so far as to wear jeans with them from time to time.

He claimed it would make him seem far too different to anyone who had known him. In reality, he wanted to close his eyes and believe he had slipped Will’s shirt on, had rolled out of bed and stolen it for a laugh from the light eyed man, whose smile threatened even the Paris stars above him. He clung to whatever false memories he could create of the man, to fill in the gaps of what he had wanted, and what he had taken instead.

He made his way into the hotel with very few looks, and stood impatiently in the elevator, holding the dog close, who was squirming, trying to lick at his exposed forearm. Hannibal looked down at it again, the skinny little thing with dirt in its fur, and could only whisper, “You need a name.”

It perked up, looked at him with those dark eyes, puppy eyes, trust eyes- eyes he had seen in a different incarnation, light and on the face of a man- a man who trusted him, once.

Who might have loved him.

"How about Graham?" he asked, and the dog’s tail wagged, its tongue lolling out happily as the elevator doors opened. Hannibal stepped off, heading towards his suit, and was nodding to himself, to the dog. "Okay. Graham, then." He stopped in front of his door, had to shift around, feeling for the card to his room in his pockets, and held the dog with one hand, who turned and got his paws up on Hannibal’s shoulder, looking around happily and then digging its muzzle into his hair. Hannibal clutched him with his one arm, exhaling softly.

He’d do right by this one.


	3. Sleeping in the same bed takes getting used to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lesbianingz](http://lesbianingz.tumblr.com/) sent me, "(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) hi wow in that recent gif set post i thought like will goes along with hanni to wherever the fuck they're going and abigail gets the room with a single bed and will and hannibal have to share together since there aren't any other beds and will is a lil shy about that at first but they don't bang amazingly (until will warms up to the thought of it hello break in the mattress)" and I went with it <3

Oh my gosh shy Will hello yes you rang? This screams fluff here I am.

Will was terrified to move. If he so much as twitched a leg, he’d brush along Hannibal’s leg, and he didn’t want that. The embrace in his home had been so much to handle, and Will felt far too self conscious to think the man wanted him invading his space while he was trying to sleep. As it where, however, Will was clutching the edge of the bed, while Hannibal lay on his back.

"Will?"

"Hmm?" It’s almost a hum, the sound coming from Will’s throat. He’s tired and terrified and unsure what he’s really even doing here, and when he feels Hannibal’s hand running along his side he jerks, nearly falling off the bed. Hannibal is quick, rolling onto his side and throwing an arm over Will’s waist, tugging him back so he crashes against Hannibal’s chest.

"I am not afraid of your touch," Hannibal whispers into Will’s curls, breathing in his torment, the sweet scent of it.

"You’re trying to sleep."

"Considering the past twenty four hours, I would sleep better with the affirmation of your touch that you are, indeed, right here." His hand splayed on Will’s stomach, against his flesh, and Will shivered. He felt Hannibal nuzzled his curls, breathing against him, the rise and fall of his chest into Will’s back, and he couldn’t deny it was soothing.

"What if I keep you awake?"

"Rest assured, dear Will, you will not. Now," he released Will, rolling back onto his back and holding his arm up, creating a space against his side. "Come here."

Will squirmed until he was on his other side, facing Hannibal and then moved in, slowly, until the doctor’s arm was curling around him, pulling him closer. His head feel against Hannibal’s chest, fingers splaying in his chest hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the flight ride and fall with each of the man’s breaths. Will felt his body growing heavy, realized sleep was slowly creeping up on him- for the first time with another person in so long he couldn’t be sure.

He still felt a little strange, pressed against Hannibal, but his breathing was so soothing, his body warm- and when he kissed the top of Will’s curls, his muscles went liquid, the only movement his own breathing and the way his fingers played softly in Hannibal’s chest hair.

"Sleep now, dear Will," Hannibal whispered, "Tomorrow is a new day."

And sleep Will did.


	4. My funny valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for [Archionblu](http://archionblu.tumblr.com/) and [HughDancySexual](http://hughdancysexual.tumblr.com/) because I just couldn't say no! <3 Give [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvXywhJpOKs) a listen while reading.

Will grinned to himself, swallowing down the last of his whiskey. His house was dimly lit by his dull-bulbed lamps, the dogs plastered about. He refilled his whiskey glass, stopped at the old record player that he had recently dug out from one of the closests, contemplated it a moment, before setting his whiskey down and leaving the room, rummaging through a box of records and returning to place on one. Gently, he moved the needle into place, listened as the old, slightly static sound filled the room.

“My funny valentine,” he sang, low and quietly to himself, picking up his whiskey and taking another drink, grimacing slightly, before he set the glass down, moving across the room. “You make me smile, with my heart.”

By now, the dogs had perked their heads up. They watched as Will crossed the room, his cheeks flushed pink from the whiskey he’d had prior, feeling warm, giddy inside his skin. In his mind, locked away safely, there was only one person he _could_ be singing to, one man who left him feeling breathless under a perfectly dark velvet gaze.

He stopped at the couch, lifted up Maggie from her pillow, smiling at her little overbite smile, lifting her high as his voice carried louder in the room, echoing off it, his accent coming out rich and pure, his walls forgotten in whiskey and the warmth comfort of his home, of the presence of Hannibal in his mind.

If someone had said puppy love to him, they would not have been wrong.

Will missed the pull of a car up along his driveway, the silencing of an engine and the movement of steps across his lawn. The music lifted out of his house, his voice noticeable from the steps of his porch. Hannibal stopped, raised an eyebrow, then carefully slipped his shoes off to creep silently in socked feet up the porch and to the door, hands resting on the frame as he listened.

“Yet you’re my favorite work of art,” Will sang, closing his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back, just as Hannibal opened the screen door, and then the wooden door, slipping inside, watching, amused, as he bent silently to set his shoes down. Will hummed for a moment, in tune, turned with Maggie still in his arms, and froze, seeing Hannibal watching him. “H-Hannibal?”

Hannibal gave him a warm smile, the kind that made Will hot under every inch of skin, brought more color to his cheeks, down along his neck. He quickly set Maggie back on the couch, much to the displeasure of the dog, and Hannibal walked over, long, calm strides that made Will’s belly quake.

“Please,” he started, stopping one step away- one step too many, in Will’s mind. Around him, the music was still rich, the fabric of the melody mottled with slight holes from time, the record worn, but it added to the sweetness of it all. Will felt trapped inside an old photograph, set in rich ambers and faded along the edges. “Don’t stop.”

Will would have, under any other set of circumstances, flat out refused. But Hannibal was watching him with intrigued eyes, warm and hot silken velvet, wrapping around him with an affection that left Will quaking even more. He was warm from the whiskey, a mess of heated threads pulled tight, and his heart was hammering to a pleasant melody inside his ribs.

“Stay, little valentine,” he offered, voice trembling slightly but so pleasantly, the words flavored with his accent suddenly- one Hannibal had heard only hints of, one that had him closing the gap and slipping an arm around Will’s waist as the man managed out one more word, “stay.”

The doctor reached up, touched Will’s face, stroked his thumb along the shell of his ear, and maybe it was the whiskey- maybe it was the sheer relief of letting his accent flow back over his tongue like a long-missed friend, maybe it was the hole punched melody sinking into his mind, but Will held his eyes and gave up singing, whispering almost beyond audible words, “kiss me.”

Hannibal smiled, the slightest curve of his lips, and then he was closing the gap, pressing Will so tightly against his chest that Will was sure their ribs would fuse. He kissed him with warm, slow movements, the kind that brought Will slowly to his toes, left liquid sounds echoing inside his skull. He tasted like whiskey, he was sure, but Hannibal seemed to find it pleasant, hand tightening on the back of his shirt, hand tangling back in his hair. Will was sure he could stay locked like this forever, this first kiss that he couldn’t believe, in the sane recesses of his mind, that he asked for.

“’Annibal,” he whimpered, and the man offered him the most charming of true smiles, the kind that went up to not only the creases along his eyes, but the irises themselves, giving them a rich warmth, like mulled wine hot on the hearth.

He stroked his fingers in Will’s hair, once, then offered in his own voice, a sung whisper that wrapped sweetly into Will’s mind and imprinted along the curves of his brain, “each day is Valentine’s day.”

Will wrapped both his arms around Hannibal’s neck then, pressed up against him and sought out his mouth for another kiss, the warmth under his skin and in his bones having nothing to do with whiskey now- all the blame lay at the feet of the man against him, smiling into his mouth as if Will was the sweetest thing he had ever gotten between his fingers.

Because, truthfully, he was.


	5. Daddy kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "hello! i was wondering if you could write some infantilism porn. or if you don't want that, daddy kink please? Thanks!"
> 
> While I don't write infantilism or age play, I really can't ever turn down daddy kink...

Will rubbed the back of his neck, the stress edging it's way down from his brain through his spine, spanning out along his back. He cursed at his empty classroom, not wanting to spend the afternoon in the lab, looking at dead bodies and piecing together who they were prior- and how they fell apart. But his only other option was to sit around grading exams, and that was just as unappealing.

"Will." He jerked his head towards the door, a smile spreading along his face when he saw Hannibal filling a portion of it, hands in his pockets and simply watching. Will wondered how long he'd been standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Will asked, fully turning as Hannibal walked in, giving a charming smile that brought color to Will's cheeks. The older man placed a kiss to one warm cheek.

"I thought perhaps you would want lunch before your afternoon activities begin."

"You drove over an hour for lunch?" Hannibal nodded, and Will couldn't help but smile- small, because the ache in his neck and back was still too much to ignore, but there was a joy in his belly. "You're too much." Hannibal slipped behind Will, wrapped his arms around him and nestled into his hair, felt the tension in his muscles as they pressed to his chest.

"You're tense."

"Over worked," Will reasoned.

"I do hope not under fucked." Will laughed, a sharp bark that broke the silence of the room.

"Oh god no, you make sure of that." One of Hannibal's hands splayed on his belly, pressed gently, and he nipped at Will's neck, could smell the anxiety, the tension, the pain. Could smell it all and wanted to chase it away.

"I wouldn't want you to be left needy," Hannibal breathed, "My remarkable boy, you are far too valuable to be left ignored."

Will shivered, tipping his head back to rest against Hannibal's shoulder. "Don't call me boy," he breathed, "not here." Hannibal chuckled.

"Ask me nicely." And Will knew, in that moment, what game they were playing. No matter what the rational part of his brain said, he was too needy from the stress in his body to deny it- a way to lose control and feel simultaneously protected.

Plus, Hannibal's touch was a craving that never died.

"Please daddy," Will breathed, and then Hannibal's hand was no longer on his belly but his groin, gripping him and massaging him gently. Will gasped, a broken squeak, his hands reaching down and grabbing at Hannibal's arm, but not pushing him away. "W-what are you doing, daddy?"

"You're tense, my little darling," Hannibal whispered into his curls, "Daddy is just easing the tension. Don't you want daddy's help?"

Will nodded as Hannibal opened his pants with one hand, rubbed his cock through his underwear for a few seconds, and then was pulling him free, half hard. Will whimpered, still gripping at Hannibal's arm, but not stopping Hannibal in anyway.

"Someone could see," he whined, "Daddy, they'll think I'm a terrible boy."

"Hush," Hannibal whispered, stroking Will and loving the feel of him hardening in his hand. The door remained closed, and sealed in the room Hannibal felt invulnerable. He knew it spread to Will, or the man would have stopped him. "You're my sweet boy, precious. I know you're a good boy."

"Oh daddy," Will breathed, "Yes. I'm a good boy, I promise." He was fully hard now, and pushing back, gently grinding into Hannibal as the man stroked him. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tension pulling down from his neck and back, pooling at the base of his spine as a hot pressure, one that made him whine. "I'm your good boy."

"Of course," Hannibal murmured, mentally noting that he would need to work Will up standing like this again, when they had more time. The way he squirmed back against him was incredible. "Precious, do you want to make daddy happy?"

"Hnnn," Will gasped, Hannibal's hand tightening, "Y-yes daddy, a-always." Hannibal found his ear, nipped at the lobe, before whispering in a hot breath,

"Cum for daddy then, sweet boy."

Will gasped, clutched tightly at Hannibal's arm and whined daddy as he shook, his cum shooting along Hannibal's hand, onto the floor. He pressed back, breathless, let Hannibal stroke him through the final waves, and then rested against him, panting for breath. He lifted his head, nuzzled Hannibal's neck and breathed daddy into his neck, happily, enjoyed the last moment of contact, before Hannibal was pulling away.

Will tucked himself back into his pants, rotated his neck, realized the tension had left him. Hannibal was walking around the desk, finding the paper towels Will kept hidden, and wiped his hand off, before crouching to wipe at the floor, making Will blush.

"You really know how to relax a guy," he offered with a nervous chuckle as Hannibal tossed out the paper towel and then took his arm, smiling.

"I take care of my darling boy," he said, smiling in a teasing way, and Will laughed.

"Thanks daddy." There was a hint of sarcasm there, but when Hannibal responded, he was all serious, in a way that had Will almost whining again.

"You can thank me later, sweet boy."


	6. Listen in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "I just read that "call interrupted" thing and... wow! Kudos, my dear! So I was thinking that it would be awesome with reversed roles too. Maybe they're in the middle of it and Hannibal refuses to stop when Jack, or Alana or Beverly calls (omg, can you imagine Beverly? She'd understand immediatly what's going on, but would play dumb!) And Will all embarrassed, but doesn't want Hanni to stop because... well, he's Hannibal and god he's soooo good!"
> 
> This is an old prompt I held onto and decided it was finally time to fill >.>

"Shit, Hannibal," Will groaned, on his knees on Hannibal's bed, naked and flushed. Hannibal had two slick fingers inside him, thrusting gently, had been for some time now. Will was trembling, feeling the contrast of his hot, naked flesh compared to Hannibal- in his slacks and button down with the sleeves rolled up. He looked put together. Will was a mess. 

"Gonna fuck me?" Will breathed, curious, and Hannibal grinned, curling his fingers and making Will cry out.

"Perhaps, beloved. But not yet." He pushed deeper, and Will rolled his eyes, losing his breath. "Touch yourself."  
Will didn't hesitate to listen, wrapped a hand around his aching cock and stroked, licking his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, when his phone, sitting on the bedside table, began to buzz suddenly. Hannibal turned, eyed it, then reached for it, stilling his fingers inside Will for a moment.

"Don't," Will breathed, but Hannibal was already answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Hannibal?"

"Oh hello Agent Katz. What a lovely surprise." He looked at Will, who had stopped stroking himself but kept his cock in hand, who still encased two of Hannibal's fingers in his warm body.

"Sorry, I thought I was calling Will."

"Oh, you did. This is his phone. Would you like to talk to him?" Will was shaking his head, biting his lip when Hannibal shifted his fingers.

"Please."

Hannibal held out the phone, and Will took it in his free hand, holding it to his ear and whispering, "H-hello?"

"Will, hey, look sorry to bother you but Jack is all over my ass about this case, and I need you." Will nodded, eyes widening when Hannibal began thrusting his fingers again, smiling up at the younger man. He bit his lip, held in the groan in his throat, realized Beverly hadn't stopped talking, and he had missed most of what she had said.

"Check the victim's t-travel," he forced out, releasing his cock even though he was dying to stroke himself to release. He was so close, and Hannibal's moving fingers didn't help. He mouthed "stop", but Hannibal only smirked, scissoring his fingers. "Hnnnggg."

"Will?"

"S-sorry," he gasped, "Travel. The last victim wasn't...wasn't from the town. Visiting m-maybe." He shook his head, bit his lip, and Hannibal curled his fingers once. "Fuck!"

"You okay?" Beverly sounded concerned, and Will was shaking his head.

"Y-yeah. Just- ah- bumped into something." Hannibal chuckled over that, leaning over, his tongue darting out to lick along the head of Will's neglected cock. Will began to tremble, the flush of his cheeks creeping down his neck. Hannibal opened his mouth, sucked the head in carefully.

"Yeah, she's not from Maryland, she might have been visiting someone." Will nodded as Hannibal swallowed him deeper, his free hand gripping at one of Will's ass cheeks as he curled his fingers, rubbing his finger pads against Will's prostate. Will gave a mewl, and Beverly stopped her train of thought. "Will?"

"Hhnnngg, y-yeah?"

"Uhm, is something-" Beverly was cut off by a gasp, and Will nearly lost his hold on the phone, cursing quietly. There was a moment of silence, and then, in an amused voice, "Will, are you..." She trailed off into silence, just as Hannibal pressed Will's prostate the exact way he needed, swallowing him down his throat, and Will dropped the phone to the sheets, reaching his hand down to bury in Hannibal's hair as he gave a cry, his cum sliding along Hannibal's tongue and throat.

Only when he was sure Will had nothing left did Hannibal pull off and out. Will collapsed down, panting, and Hannibal reached for the phone, lifting it with a smile.

"I apologize, Beverly. May I have dear William call you back?"

She was cackling, so much so she could barely force out, "S-sure," and Hannibal ended the call. Will curled up on himself, glaring up when Hannibal reached out to stroke his side.

"I hate you," he whined, absolutely no conviction in his words at all, and Hannibal grinned to himself, very pleased.


	7. Just a minute sooner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hanni-Babe](http://hanni-babe.tumblr.com/) asked, "so here is a voyeurism prompt: Jack and everyone have left Hannibal and Will alone in the evidence room so will can have a better look at some of the crime scene photos. Will ends up not paying attention to any of the pictures at all, and much more attention to Dr. Lecter's dick, all the while worrying they're going to come back and see/hear. :3"
> 
> Voyuerism and anything like it is my kink yo. Obviously Hanni-Babe and I connect on a spiritual level (but I already knew this!)

The photos that had been on the table were scattered on the floor, left forgotten Once, Will had tapped his fingers over them, had looked at the bodies displayed on the photo paper with Jack and the rest of the team watching. Once they had left, though, filing out to leave Will to work, the photos had lost his interest, his eyes finding something far more appealing then an impaled and splayed body.

Hannibal, as he was now, leaning back against the evidence table so its lip dug into the small of his back, his hands clutching at it so his knuckles were almost white, was a far more appealing attraction. His head was tipped back, ever so slightly, and from his angle on his knees, Will could see the beginnings of his throat, working as he swallowed, as he groaned and Will took his cock deeper into his mouth, until his nose nestled in the ashen blonde curls at the base of his cock.

Will liked having Hannibal's cock in his mouth. There was a taste to his skin, a spice that made his mouth water, a salt that drove his brain to fever. His hands gripped at the man's hips, thumbs rubbed along the expensive fabric of his slacks, plaid like the rest of his suit. Will closed his eyes for a moment, felt the thrill coursing him, a hot buzz in his veins, knowing that someone- anyone could see him, in that moment. Jack could come back with a final remark, Beverly could have dropped her pen- Brian and Jimmy might sneak back for lack of a reason at all. Any of them could discover Will, on his knees, hungry and happy to be nearly choking on Hannibal's cock, his own aching in his pants from the taste and texture and secret rush of possible exposure.

Hannibal shifted, pressed into Will's mouth as he bobbed his head, and Will opened his eyes, looked up through thick lashes as his head came forward, hung there, his eyes opening, dark. His red lips were parted, his hair had come free, and for a moment Hannibal Lecter was the perfect image of undone, just with the subtle wisps of ashen blonde, the need in his wine-like eyes.

Will tried to smile around his cock, couldn't, and instead pulled off to trace his tongue along the underside, hold the weight of his length in his hand. Hannibal shivered, groaned "Will," and Will mouthed at the hot flesh.

"Someone could see us," Will breathed, his breath a warm puff on fever skin and Hannibal bucked, once, the head of his cock brushing Will's cheek, his stubble. "Imagine Jack walking in and finding you so undone, Dr. Lecter."

"Wouldn't it be- ah, worse for you, Will?" Will traced his tongue down Hannibal's length again, made him shiver. "To be caught so happily on your knees?"

Will chuckled, stroked Hannibal and sucked on his own lip for a moment. "No," he finally breathed, "It's far worse for you, Hannibal. To be seen undone is far worse then anything they can see in me. Best hope they don't come back."

With that, Will swallowed him down again, all the way down until his nose pushed into those curls again, and Hannibal arched, head tossed back, gasping. Will's mouth was warm, soft, wet- things Hannibal knew well, experience often enough, yet never like this. Never in a moment where there was such a risk.

Will dug his fingers into Hannibal's hips, hummed his approval when Hannibal whined- a broken sound that belonged to Will, both now because he had dragged it from Hannibal, and because it was the type of sound he typically made- and that was the end. Against the sound of distant footsteps, precise and set, Hannibal came over Will's tongue, down his throat. 

Will took it all, refusing to release Hannibal from his mouth until he was sure there was nothing left for him, and pulled off, to lick his lips and nuzzle Hannibal's groin, kiss the curls and the skin to the side, anything he could get.

He wanted to do it all over again.

Hannibal's breathing as ragged, and Will took the liberty of tucking him back into his underwear, but didn't right his clothing as he stood up, as he pressed along him and let Hannibal feel how hard he had gotten during it all, as he wrapped an arm around his neck, buried his hand up in his hair and kissed him, open mouthed and with the sharp points of his teeth. He took advantage of Hannibal being nearly delirious for a moment, before he was always in the doctor's spot. So rarely was he the one with any sense of control.

Will only pulled back when the footsteps became less than an echo, and a true sound. Hannibal, pulled from his trance, squirmed away from Will, walking around the table and tucking his shirt back in, closing his pants and setting his clothing right. When he looked up, Will caught his eye and dragged one finger along his own bottom lip, sucking on it to make sure there was not a trace of evidence left.

Hannibal groaned, openly, weakly, and Will smirked, just as Beverly walked in.

"Did I leave my pen?" she asked, looking at the two, before taking in Hannibal's disheveled hair. The doctor realized where her gaze had fallen and reached up, casually brushing his hand back through it. She looked at the table, then smiled, distracted. "Oh! There it is." She walked over, grabbed it. "It's my favorite-" she stopped when her foot landed on one of the evidence photos, looking down, then back at the two, confused. "Uhm-"

"Will got a bit too into his fantasy," Hannibal breathed, "I had to restrain him for a moment, pull him back to reality. It seems we made a bit of a mess." He walked over, stooping down to gather up the photos. "Please tell Jack we will be out shortly."

"Uh. Yeah, okay. Sure."

She turned and walked out, and Will grinned, looking at Hannibal and whispering, "liar." Hannibal said nothing, and Will hoped that the next time he got too into his fantasy, Beverly would walk in just a minute or two earlier- soon enough to find Hannibal on the verge of his seams ripping, and Will being the cause of taking such power and making it crumble.


	8. Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "I'm not sure if you're taking prompts right now but if you are, how about Will teaches Hannibal to fish and then cute things happen because Will really likes seeing hannibal in his fishing attire? ;u;"

Will stood in the stream, both fishing rods in his arms, watched as Hannibal slowly and with very little grace managed to wade in, arms extended for balance in boots that he felt were a bit too large for him, but Will assured him they were fine. He looked a mess compared to his usual self- the hat Will had insisted he hair was askew, his hair was ruffled and bunching towards one eye, and the look of concentration as he made his way through the running water was almost painful.

Will was laughing and he couldn't help it.

"I am going to kill you," Hannibal said as he reached Will, who handed him a fishing rod. "Completely gut you. I'll flay you and serve you to Alana and Beverly with a smile."

Will only laughed harder, and Hannibal pressed a hand to his arm, shoving him and making him stumble back a step.

"Look, it's easy from here on out," Will reasoned, getting his footing back. He tossed his line, listened to it plop into the water, and nodded at Hannibal. "Just like I showed you darlin'."

Hannibal huffed a sighed and cast his own line, managing to not tangle with Will's. The younger man smiled at him, reached over and affectionately rubbed his arm. "Good job. See, it's not so bad."

"I'm already beginning to perspire," Hannibal complained, the sun beating down on him, "I'm going to need a ritual of showers to ever get the smell of this river off of me."

"You never thought it was that bad when you'd come with me and just watch." Will had brought Hannibal with him before, except Hannibal would bring a chair, sit and sketch while Will fished. It was relaxing, and Hannibal then was typically in good spirits.

His line jerked then, tightened, and Will grinned. "Reel it in!" Hannibal looked at him, once, then did as he was instructed, until a fish sprung from the water on the line. He grinned, clapping a hand on Hannibal's back. "See? You already got one!"

"Wonderful, does that mean our trip has come to an end?" Will just chuckled, shaking his head.

"Look, we'll compromise. After this, we'll be in the kitchen- your domain. I'll show you how I cook them- I'm sure it's simple for your palate, but still more enjoyable."

"I will agree, on one more condition."

"And that is?"

"After dinner, you let me sketch you. Properly." Will felt heat rising to his cheeks, looked away for a minute, at the clear, running water- then back up, at Hannibal ruffled hair and the uneven cap, at the pink that tinged his cheeks from the sun, the completely absurd picture he painted in his fishing gear.

He'd gone completely out of his comfort zone, for Will. Because he'd asked.

"Deal," Will finally said, leaning in closer. "Seal it?"

Hannibal smiled and found Will's mouth, kissing him to the sounds of the stream and the hot beat of the sun on their cheeks.


	9. Medieval /GoT AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [dweeby](http://dweeby.tumblr.com/) asked, "Hng, your prompt fills are ssoooo good. I've had this idea but I couldn't make it pretty like you could SO I SHALL THROW IT AT YOU! <3 Medieval or Game of Thrones-y.. but either way, Will is a lordling whose sister Alana is arranged to marry Hannibal. They meet in Will's father's throne room and later that night when Will goes off to the brothels undercover to escape his own imminent marriage and be his lovely gay self... guess who is there and very interested in the cute lordling whore? c:"
> 
> I have so much love for Game of Thrones that an AU in that style had my heart skipping beats.

"Do you think he will be cute?" Alana asked, leaning over the arm of her chair, seated next to Will. Her hair fell in long brown waves, small braids woven with dark flowers for the occasion, matching the dark blue of her dress. She had complained it had been far too dark- she had wanted to wear color when meeting her future husband for the first time, but father had insisted- it was a house color, and Alana would wear it proudly.

"You sound a girl," Will retorted, rolling his eyes at her. "Cute? Is he to be your puppy, Alana?"

"Dogs are far more faithful then men," she retorted, "Does he have any bastards? I know nothing of him, has father told you? He's too far North for my taste, I am sure."

"Have you met a man without a bastard?"

"One. You." She smirked, deviously. "But you do have to bed a woman for that, so there in lies your problem, dear brother."

Will frowned, hushing her, lest someone hear and bring it up to father- granted, Will knew his affairs were not that secretive, but there was still a difference when it was brought up directly to his father's ears.

There was noise then, an uproar, and then silence as a page entered, bowing deeply to Will's father, sitting in his ancient, hallowed out throne of dark wood. "May I present, for your lordship, ser Hannibal Lecter, of the North!"

Will felt Alana reach over, clutch at his hand with both of hers, felt the slide of the rings on her fingers and she waited on baited breath. The man that entered then was tall, dressed in mail and fine yet worn leather, one large hand brushing back his ashen grey locks as he gave a courteous bow to Will's father.

"My lord," he offered, and Will's father stood, beckoning up and clasping his arm, announcing no future son of his need bow as such. The room erupted in laughter, and Will's father called for wine to be brought, as he turned Hannibal to meet his children, who had stood.

"My daughter, your betrothed," he said, gesturing towards Alana and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she came close. "My beautiful Alana."

Hannibal bowed his head, taking her hand and kissing it, gently on the knuckles. Her cheeks burned red in that moment, and he simply smiled at her.

"Ah, and my son, William. Will, come here boy." Will stepped forward, settling a hand on Alana's shoulder, squeezing gently, allowing himself a moment to take in the man before him, his stomach tightening at the glorious thing wrapped in the flesh of men. He envied Alana, in that moment, so very much.

"A pleasure," Hannibal said, clasping Will's arm, who offered a smile and didn't dare try his voice. Hannibal was removed from his touch when the wine arrived, and Will fell back to his chair to drink and eye him as he was introduced to the house, as Alana stood by him from time to time and had the court cooing over what beautiful children they would make.

*

Will pulled his cloak tightly around him as he hurried through the night, slipping into the lit and lively building with a smile hidden on his lips. He pulled his hood down just as a young woman walked over, in nothing but a slip, one shoulder exposed, and smiled at him.

"Oh m'lord, I didn't know t'was you. You'll be wantin' something a bit different from me." She giggled, offering her hand to Will, who took it, and led him in. "Do ya want some wine m'lord?"

"That would be lovely." The girl left him as he sat at a table, getting a hello from another woman as she walked by, her bodice laced tightly and her breasts nearly spilling over, a lord of the court following behind her. He looked at William, but said nothing- lest Will tell the man's wife all he saw, and how often the man was here-

Or of the two bastards he'd fathered in the past year alone.

The wine was settled in front of him and Will thanked the girl, taking a large swallow and contemplating his options for the evening- if he felt like parting flesh to have a young man scream for him, or preferred to have his own body explored.

He closed his eyes, pictured Alana's lord in his head, and shuddered. That. That was what he wanted- and wanted badly. He was striking- older in years by far, but that mattered little to Will. He preferred to be pressed down into the sheets and fucked wide open than to explore the younger men that many assumed he wanted. He wanted a man, not a boy.

There was a creak across from him, a movement in the wood bench, and he opened his eyes, found a set staring right back at him- dark as his wine, with a smile of perfectly pointed, charming teeth.

Will's breath caught in his throat.

"Not exactly the spot I expected to find the Lord's son," Hannibal pointed out.

"Not exactly the spot to find yourself when you have known your betrothed less than a day?" He gave him a wicked smile and gulped down the rest of his wine. The woman who greeted him appeared, refilling his goblet, and settling one in front of Hannibal with a smile.

"My thanks," he said with a bow of his head, before turning to Will, "I mean no disrespect to your sister."

"Better not, 'Lana is darling to me." He took another drink, head feeling a bit light. Good. "She finds you very...fetching."

"She said this to you?"

"Oh yes. Before you came in, she was concerned you would not be...cute. I fear she is expecting a boy, but for a man you suit her." Hannibal laughed at that.

"Tell me, William, which do you prefer? Boys, or men?"

Will swallowed, felt a tight heat in his chest suddenly, noticed the shift in Hannibal's dark eyes, the subtle curve to his lips. He wasn't drunk enough to be imaging this- he had built up an immunity stronger than this.

"Men." Hannibal smiled at him, raised his goblet to that, and Will laughed, throwing his head back to finish his wine.

*

Will crashed down on his bed, thrown there, sprawled against the furs as Hannibal grinned down at him, before he blanketed him, stooped over and mouthing at his neck. Will moaned, openly, arched and reached up, winging his arms around Hannibal's neck and sinking his hands into his hair. He tugged, and Hannibal snarled.

"Beast," Will breathed as Hannibal shoved his hands under his tunic, fumbling, wanting to strip him. He huffed a laugh as he gripped Will's cock, made him groan.

"Would you have me be a weak boy?"

"Oh gods be damned no." Will squirmed, kicked his boots off as Hannibal tugged his leggings off, giving Will a moment to sit up and pull his tunic off, tossing it aside. He was left naked except for a heavy gold medallion, resting against his chest from a gold chain. It held the family crest- a wild, fierce dog. "I have no interest in a child and his cocklet tonight."

Hannibal laughed, placing a knee on the bed and gripping Will's face, kissing him roughly. They both tasted heavily of wine, cheeks were flushed because of it. Every second breath was a laugh, third was a moan- Will's head was swimming and he loved every second of it.

"'Lana will kill me," he murmured as Hannibal moved from his mouth, dragged his lips along the short stubble on his jaw.

"You will tell your?" Hannibal reached down, grabbed at Will's cock and stroked him, making him squirm, toss his head back.

"Perhaps one day," he managed, "If I ever need the advantage over her." In a joking matter, he meant of course. He loved Alana dearly, held her in a chamber of his heart no other dared to touch. "Put something inside me."

Hannibal laughed as Will turned away, rolled onto his stomach towards the center of the bed, the fur caressing him in endless softness. "Demanding, spoiled child," Hannibal breathed, pulling his tunic off over his head. He kicked his boots off but left the cloth clinging to his legs, crawled onto the bed and grabbed Will's ass, opening it and bending his head down, pressing his mouth to his hole and making him cry out.

"Fuck," Will breathed, pushing up towards him as Hannibal's tongue flicked and traced his asshole. "Ay, maybe you should spoil me more." He reached out, grasped at the furs as Hannibal ate his ass, leaving him sensitive to the point of another sharp cry when Hannibal's tongue pushed inside him. He shook his head, felt a tremble wracking him. Hannibal clutched at his ass, bruising the tender flesh, before he pulled off, tugging at his leggings and squirming until he was tossing them away, up on his knees as Will rolled over, pulled himself close.

He nestled Hannibal's thigh, reached a hand up to grip at his heavy cock, stroking lazily. He hummed his approval into the flesh of Hannibal's thigh, looking up through his thick lashes as he licked at Hannibal's length, watched the man grin.

"From how the town talks, I know you can swallow a cock better than that." Will laughed.

"Not even a day and already into the gossip, my lord?"

"Talk travels far, little lordling." Will shivered, and opened his mouth, sucking half of Hannibal's impressive length in Hannibal reached down, tangled his hand in Will's curls and tugged, forcing him to swallow me. He tipped his head back as Will moaned around his cock, loving the weight and taste on his tongue, to delight his blood tingled with at having a cock in his mouth. He loved it, and Hannibal's- well, he was already sure Hannibal's was going to be one of his favorites.

He managed a breath, took him deeper, so deep he was pushing at his throat, Will's nose burying his the ashen grey curls at his groin. Hannibal moaned, a small cry at the end, and Will trailed his tongue along his cock as he retracted, pushed back down again, over and over again until the salt of Hannibal's skin had over taken the taste of wine in his mouth.

Will could have gone forever, would have let Hannibal's seed coat his lips and chin, paint him white as snow. He loved it, and this man seemed to stir things in Will a man had never so fully stirred- a woman far less so- but Hannibal was pushing him off, tossing him back so he fell on the pillows on his back. The older man made his way between his legs, reached for the table next to Will's bed, grabbing to delicately carved bottle there, chuckling.

"You keep it so openly," he mused, dumping some on his palm and settling it on the bed, nestled between Will's thigh and his own leg, as he worked the oil over his fingers.

"Everyone knows what I am."

Hannibal grinned, shoved two fingers into Will and had him crying loudly, nearly a yell. "Ah, so even your father knows of your abhorrence to cunt?"

Will managed a laugh, even as Hannibal was quick to fuck him, fingers driving in and stretching him deliciously.

"He chooses to be blind," Will breathed, spreading his thighs more. "Bring my father up again in my bedroom, ser, and you'll be sucking your own cock for the rest of the night."

Hannibal chuckled, shoved a third finger in and curled, this time really did have Will screaming once, arching fully off the bed. He deemed that enough- wasn't interested in waiting any longer, and poured more oil into his palm, setting the bottle back on the table as he rubbed it into his cock until his skin was slick. He grasped Will's hip with one hand, the other guiding his cock into his body, inch by inch, as he groaned, head bowed, and Will mewled, shifting, spreading his thighs more.

Hannibal wasted not a moment, pulled his hips out and snapped them back in, and Will was arching, a hand finding his own cock and gripping it. He knew what he liked, how he liked it, and as he dug his heels into the furs and Hannibal fucked him open, this man was exactly it.

"Hard," Will breathed, "You won't break me." He received a growl in return, and Hannibal leaned over him, driving in with abandon and biting for his mouth, finding his lip and pinning it between sharp teeth. Will whimpered, shook, twisted his hand along the head of his cock and felt the spot deep inside him being struck with every swift stroke.

"Call out to me, darling boy," Hannibal breathed, and Will reached his free arm up, hook it along Hannibal's shoulder, fingers in his hair. He found his mouth and moaned into it, sucked on his tongue and mumbled his name around the muscle as his thighs ached at their juncture from being spread so wide. He didn't care

"Gods," Will breathed, "H-Hannibal, I'm- ah- fuck, I'm-" He was cut off again as Hannibal left all reserves behind, hearing his name and losing his mind to the young lordling in that moment. He fucked him with abandon, and if Will truly had words they were lost in silent praise to the god between his thighs. He whined and moaned and finally, as the pressure in his balls and belly and back became too much, screamed as he spilled his seed up on his belly, small white kisses of passion that felt hot as fire.

Hannibal growled his own release into Will's mouth, jerking his hips as he emptied his body into the man pulling out and leaving pearly stains between his thighs. He collapsed onto the bed, on his back, lifting an arm up to rest on his heated forehead, and Will rolled onto his side, fitting into the space, a hand teasing Hannibal's chest hair.

"Oh, 'Lana is most certainly going to kill me." Hannibal laughed, looking down at the younger man.

"Because you've had her husband first?"

"Because you'll never fuck her that well." The two laughed, and Will curled in closer, nestling in, felt Hannibal's arm drop down to hold him close.

"At least you can't have any bastards by me." Hannibal's laugh was louder this time, "That seems to be her main concern."

"I owe her as much," Hannibal breathed, "For I fear I find your bed more enticing than her's- as lovely a flower as she is." Will sighed, kissed at Hannibal's chest. There was a dull ache forming inside him- it had been too long since someone had properly fucked him, and no one had in the way Hannibal had just done. He was a god among men to Will in that moment.

"Perhaps I can have her fall into the arms of my future bride," Will said, "We could simply switch beds at night." They both laughed now, and Will sighed, content. "Will you be missed, come dawn?"

"I'll think of something," Hannibal offered, "I prefer your furs and warmth tonight." Will smiled, closing his eyes, and wondered if there was any possibility in his madness- if his sweet Alana could find a true attraction in another woman, and allow her own now betrothed, but soon husband- to fall into her brother's bed. He wondered, and preyed to old gods and new alike, as sleep began to claw at him, that they would bless him and she would.

For nothing could ever change the love Will felt for his darling sister- but this god in the flesh of man, he was something Will intended to hold onto.


	10. Flower crowns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "If you are taking prompts, how about hannibal and will sitting in a field of flowers in france, making each other flower crowns and cuddling. I am really in denial about the finale"

Will's cheeks were red, from laughter, from the sun, from the feeling of pure joy running through him. The grass beneath him was fresh, he could smell the flowers and the air and Hannibal's cologne, the man sitting next to him in jeans- of all things, looking less the put together doctor Will had begun to fall for, and the man he had been building a life with now.

It was strange, to see Hannibal in suits so seldom now. He had never left his love of button downs behind, but the jeans- Will had to sit down the first time. Abigail had grinned, laughed at Will breathlessly, and clapped her hands together over it all. She had been precious.

He had, however, transferred his love of intricately designed ties to almost obscenely vibrant designs on his shirts. The paisley flowers and swirls left him looking dashing- Will could admit- but if he was trying to appear as mundane, he was still failing.

Will lifted the small wreath in his lap, looking at the crown of woven stems. Flowers jutted out at awkward directions, and it looked, in truth, like a project a small child had done, except with once living flowers instead of macaroni and glue.

"Oh god it's awful," Will said with a laugh, and Hannibal looked, smiling affectionately at his lover. He held his own up, a neat ring with the flowers seeming arrange in an order Will couldn't fathom. Hannibal leaned over, settled it on Will's curls, and took Will's own creation, setting it atop his head.

"I think it's lovely, beloved." Will blushed, then fumbled for his phone, trying to dig it out of his pocket.

"Let me send a picture to Abigail," he said, and when Hannibal protested, Will chimed in, "We owe her as much, for leaving her in Venice for the long weekend alone. She wanted to come so badly." Hannibal sighed, and Will leaned in, kissing him quickly, pulling away before Hannibal could grab him. As Hannibal smiled, because when Will kissed him it was far too hard to not, Will snapped a photo quickly and laughed. Then he turned, shoving himself back against Hannibal's chest and held the phone up, taking an off center photo of them, and deeming it good enough. It sent it to Abigail with a simple "remember we love you".

"She may second guess her desire to visit France again," Hannibal mused as he ran his hands along Will's shoulders, "if she sees our rather adolescent antics."

"She's the one that taught us how to make these. Hell, we better make one to take back to her." Hannibal laughed at that, and plucked Will's phone from his hand, setting his aside so he could properly wrap his arms around the man and hold him gently, under the warm afternoon sun.

Neither had any desire to move for a long, long time.


	11. The grilled cheese affair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [archionblu](http://archionblu.tumblr.com/) prompted a grilled cheese cook off between Will and Hannibal, judged by miss Abigail because of a thing I reblogged on facebook. I reblogged it knowing she'd have to prompt me somehow. It's an endless cycle XD <3

Abigail heard the men before the made their way out of the kitchen, each holding a plate. As they walked, she noticed Hannibal slide his hip gently against Will's, as it to knock him away- but not with enough force to dislodge his steps.

"Knocking me over it cheating," Will said as he set his plate to in front of Abigail. "Afraid of losing?"

"Hardly." Hannibal set his plate in front of Abigail as well, who reached for her glass of water and took a sip, thankful the men were too busy arguing to notice the way her stomach rumbled. She was starving, and honestly at that point they could have set anything in front of her and she would have been happy.

"Uh, guys?" she asked, looking up, "Can I eat now?" They stopped, and Hannibal rested his hand lovingly on her shoulder.

"Of course Abigail. Here, try a bite of mine." Abigail shrugged a shoulder, reached for the sandwich and took a bite without asking what was in it- she knew, without a doubt, that Hannibal would explain it all.

"Havarti Cheese, Spinach, a little balsamic vinegar, and fresh blueberries." Abigail nodded, chewing, took a second bite because it was good even if the combination sounded crazy, to her. Plus, blueberries were her favorite, and she knew Hannibal knew that.

"It's good," she finally said, setting it down and wiping her hands carefully on her napkin, before taking a drink. Hannibal smiled, smug, as if there was no competition, and Will wanted to slap the smug off his face. Or kiss it off. Either would have worked. Abigail could tell by the look he gave the doctor.

"Here," Will said, pushing his plate closer. Abigail looked at the sandwich, wondering if she should ask for a fork, considering it looked a bit of a mess, but shrugged and decided to just go with it. It took her a minute to get a hold of the thing, but she managed to get it to her mouth, leaning over the plate in fear some of the contents might dislodge. "It might not be as pretenious as Hannibal's, but at least it's a regular goddamn sandwich."

"Excuse me? What is wrong with mine?"

"Blueberries don't go on a fucking sandwich Hannibal, I swear-"

"Maybe if you'd give something a try, William, you'd see they would-"

"Oh, give them a try like you want me to try everything?"

"Is this about the rope again-"

"Of course it's about the fucking rope-"

"Guys!" Abigail had set the sandwich down, much to her displeasure, and was frowning. "Shut up already, and save your bedroom bitching for when you think I'm asleep. Look. They're both great. And I'm hungry enough to eat both of them and not even care- but...I think Will's is my favorite." Will grinned, staring right at Hannibal and wanting to rub in his face that cheap cheddar and a little pulled pork and BBQ sauce had won Abigail over. Hannibal might be refining her tastes, but she was still like him. From a simple family.

Hannibal huffed a sigh, and Abigail picked up the sandwich, offering half to Hannibal. "Why don't you just try it?" He looked at it for a moment, then let his shoulder slump, taking it and taking one bite, handing it back before he even began to chew. Abigail didn't mind, she didn't want to share.

She and Will watched Hannibal, who said nothing as he swallowed the food, storming off towards the kitchen. Will only laughed, knowing he'd seen the corners of Hannibal's mouth twitching up in a smile. He left Abigail with her food, called to Hannibal as he walked back into the kitchen and asked if he wanted one- and Abigail heard a round of faint obscenities in return. Hannibal was not a gracious loser, especially in the kitchen.

She shrugged and polished off Will's sandwich in little time, washed the taste down with more water, and turned to Hannibal's sandwich. It had been good, and blueberries were her favorite...

It just seemed a shame to let such a good competitor go to waste, she reasoned as she picked it up and took another bite.


	12. A little hannigram smut/fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "I got super depressed in hearing that mads won't go to comic con :C. Could you cheer me up with some sexy and fluffy hannigram? (Loved your lates chapter of 'I'm your favorite drug'! Too bad there'll be only 2 chapters left)"

Will squirmed, pressing his face down into the pillow, muffling his almost- cry as Hannibal worked his fingers inside him. He was stretched, slick, had been fucked properly once already, but now here he was- hole overly sensitive to the point of almost screaming and Hannibal's fingers inside him, working to keep him open, pushing into his prostate and making him see stars.

"Fucking god," Will groaned, pushing his ass up further, his voice completely muffled by the pillow. Hannibal pushed into his sweet spot again, and he screamed, sinking his teeth into it, biting as if he were trying to sever his prey's jugular, and he heard Hannibal chuckling, one of his hands laying flat on the small of his back, then running over the curve of his ass, down his thigh.

Will's cock was neglected, hanging flushed between his thighs, heavy and aching. He'd come once, into Hannibal's mouth before he had been stretched the first time, but not while Hannibal had fucked him- he'd said he didn't need to, didn't need it again, but Hannibal wouldn't listen. Now, Will wasn't sure he even knew what was up, down, if he was breathing or not- who he was. Was he alive, was he dead?

Did he really exist at all?

"Touch me please," he whined, but the pillow swallowed the words. He bit it again, Hannibal's fingers curling- all three, thick and working him so perfectly, and he began to tremble.

"I can't understand you, dear Will," he breathed, and Will turned his head, crying out into the open air.

"Please touch me!"

Hannibal obliged him, his hand wrapping around his length, pushing his cock towards Will's stomach and stroking, still pushing into every tender spot inside Will. The younger man shook, trembled almost violently, and then arched, throwing his head back and screaming Hannibal's name as his muscle clenched onto his fingers, as he painted his own stomach and Hannibal's fist.

Hannibal worked his fingers until Will's body went lax, until the man collapsed. When he pulled away, maneuvered over him to lay down, Will snuggled right up to his side, clinging to him.

"You'll be the death of me," Will panted, nuzzling into Hannibal's side, breathing in his scent and kissing his skin. Hannibal's arm curled around him, holding him against him, thumb stroking small circles into the back of his shoulder. "I think you're trying to kill me on purpose."

Hannibal laughed, openly, honestly at that. "And why would I do that, beloved?"

"Maybe you're afraid if you don't blow my mind with sex to the point of death I'll decide to turn you in." Will pushed himself up, rested a bent are on Hannibal's chest. "You know, let everyone know you're the big bad Ripper." 

Hannibal was still laughing as he tried to speak. "You make me sound like the villain of a child's tale, dear Will."

Will loved the way Hannibal's voice sounded when there was laughter behind his words. His eyes were alight, like burning candles through his wine glass, and Will smiled warmly. "Oh my, what big teeth you have, Mr. Chesapeake Ripper!" Hannibal threw both his arms around Will, rolling him over and pinning him to the bed, roughly nuzzling his neck and making a low growling sound that had Will shrieking his laughter, squirming against his naked lover.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear."

"Just be sure to pair me with a good wine." The two laughed again, before Hannibal leaned his forehead down against Will's, giving him an honest smile that went up to his eyes.

"I would never hurt you," he breathed then, and Will felt the back of one of his hands stroking his cheek. "Beloved boy, you are my world now."

Will smiled, felt his heart thudding then, roughly against ribs. As if it wanted to break free, squirm under Hannibal's bone-cage and rest alongside his own heart. Let the two beat for one.

"Don't get all lovey dovey on me," Will muttered, pulling Hannibal in for a kiss, unable to keep from smiling into his mouth. He held onto him tight, and left his own response silent.

Hannibal was beyond Will's world- he was his only true reality.


	13. Share your whiskey (and your boyfriend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hanni-Babe](http://hanni-babe.tumblr.com/) asked, "(I'm really really late but I promised you this and here I am! Keeping it!!!!!) Beverly catches Hannibal and Will being naughty in hannibal's car in the parking lot of the FBI. The only way to get here to keep her mouth shut is to drive away...with her in the backseat. She promises she won't say a word - as long as they let her play, too. :3"
> 
> I WILL ALWAYS WRITE MY OT3.

It was reckless, Will knew, to sit in the passenger seat of Hannibal’s Bentley in the parking lot of the lab, reaching for him frantically, a hand in his hair, leaving it mussed up and heart skippingly attractive- the other clutching at the lapel of his jacket, tugging, wanting it all gone. Will’s mouth was pried open and Hannibal’s tongue was exploring, over the points of his teeth, along the smoothness of his cheek, everywhere he could, nearly frantic.

How long had it been since Will had been intimate with Hannibal? It exceeded a week, and to Will it felt like a lifetime now. He groaned, shifting, hard in his pants and daring to let go of his hold on Hannibal’s hair to palm his own erection, groaning into the kiss.

"Will," Hannibal breathed, exhaled like smoke over his tongue, "Is this really the place-"

"Fucking god yes," he responded before Hannibal could finish, "I’ll take any place right now. I feel like I’m on fire." Hannibal reached over, pressed a hand to Will’s forehead, under his curls, felt the heat in his skin, and Will was laughing. "It’s a fever only you can cure."

Hannibal’s hand drifted, down the side of Will’s face, to his neck, and gripped suddenly, roughly, pinning him back to the seat as he leaned over, finding his mouth again. Will was stroking himself as best as he could through his clothing, able to breath but the pressure of Hannibal’s hand enough to let him know if the man wanted, that could stop.

That only made him harder.

Will openly moaned, bucked, was about to bite at Hannibal when there was a rush of cool air, and his door was open, a cavern suddenly that broke the heated bubble his body had rested in. Both men jerked, Hannibal pulling away, hand leaving Will’s throat, and Beverly leaned in, grinning at them.

"You know there are hotels for this," she said, flicking her eyes between them. Hannibal frowned, did not hide his distaste at being interrupted, and Will turned a fetching rose along his cheeks, a color that made her grin stick around longer. "Couldn’t wait, Graham?"

"Go away Beverly," Will pleaded, and she reached out, resting her hand on his thigh, a friendly gesture but Will whimpered under the touch. His nerves felt frayed at the edges, everything was too much. Beverly noticed, was going to pull her hand back, but then she caught Hannibal’s eyes again.

They had gone from displeased to intrigued. She kept her hand on Will’s thigh, squeezed, moved it up an inch.

"Why don’t we all go away," she mused, and then removed herself, closing Will’s door. He sighed in believed relief for a moment, until the back door was opening and Beverly climbed in, slamming it behind her.

"What are you-"

"Tagging along," she said, hushing Will. "Someone has to make sure you don’t fuck until you reach the point of death."

Hannibal watched her for a moment in the mirror, then glanced at Will. He fidgeted, but his eyes didn’t read pure distress-

They were excited.

Hannibal smiled to himself and started the car, pulling away from the lab. Beverly gave a happy cry, and Will tried to curl up on himself.

*

Once at Will’s house, the three made their way inside. Beverly greeted the dogs happily, acting as if she was on a regular social visit- Will, on the other hand, went straight for his whiskey, contemplated a glass, and then took a swig from the bottle. Hannibal smiled. He sensed Will’s nerves were not from fear, but from an excitement he did not want to admit, or be noticed.

Hannibal knew Beverly was one of Will’s dearest friends, and he found he blunt and brass nature oddly charming- it was no shock to him that Will might harbor some form of attraction for her. Nothing to rival what he felt for Hannibal, the doctor knew- but something. Something he was curious to see explored.

He could agree, Beverly was a fetching sight.

Hannibal made his way to Will, took the whiskey and set it aside, nuzzling his curls and slipping an arm around his waist. “Relax,” he whispered, “You’re safe with us.”

"Us?" Will blanched, squirmed and tried to pull away from Hannibal, but couldn’t. "You don’t think this is happening, do you?"

"It most certainly is." Beverly clapped, making her way over, leaning up to try and toss an arm around Hannibal’s neck.

"Listen to your beau Will, he’s got the right idea. Hannibal doll, I could kiss you. Maybe I should." Hannibal turned and eyed her for a moment, then smiled, taking the initiative himself and leaning over, finding her mouth. Beverly’s arm loosened up around his neck, her fingers slid into his hair, as his free arm went around her slender waist, pressed a hand to the curve and held her still.

Will was forced to watch, still in Hannibal’s grasp. He watched the way their lips moved, easily- too easily almost- like melting silk and then he saw the color of Hannibal’s tongue and Beverly was pushing against it, not to be out done- fighting him, Will realized, instead of giving in like Will always did.

He squirmed, but Hannibal held him tight, wanted him to watch. Wanted him to feel at ease, that this was okay. Wanted because he found the idea far more appealing with each second that Beverly’s mouth was on his.

When Hannibal pulled back, Beverly released his hair, watched as he turned and kissed Will, quickly, as if to rouse him from his shock. Will accepted it, and then Hannibal was leading him through the room, towards the bed.

"I think he needs to be eased into it," Beverly said, walking over, hands crossed under her chest. "What do you think, doctor?" She looked at Hannibal and grinned, winked, and Hannibal smiled at her- charmed.

"I think you’re quite right- Agent Katz." He chuckled, gently pushed Will down onto the bed, and pulled his own jacket off, followed by his vest, all of which he tossed onto a chair near by.

"You guys are crazy," Will said, but when Beverly sat on the bed next to him he didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. She put her hand on his back and he let her, leaned in and nuzzled his curls and kissed his skin and he allowed it all- staring up at Hannibal. "You can’t be okay with this."

"I’m perfectly fine with a little sharing," Hannibal said, working on the knot of his tie. "And I can think of no one better than Beverly to share with. I know she brings you comfort, Will."

Will bit his lip, turned and glanced at Beverly, who gave him a warm smile. The kind that was sunshine in the dark of his world, and he turned fully towards her, reached out and felt the fabric of her jacket her waist, before his hand slipped inside it. He found her waist, most down, the curve of her hip, and then Will leaned in, found her mouth like Hannibal had, kissed her in a way he’d wanted to for a long time, and hadn’t.

Beverly smiled into it, and that excited Will more than the initial touch of her lips. He pulled her closer, and then it was a whirl wind of movement, clawing at her, her grabbing him, he was on his back and he wasn’t sure how- her jacket was gone, she was straddling him, and when she leaned up, tossed her head back, Will pushed up, hated every layer of clothing that kept her from him.

Hannibal appeared on the before behind her, mouthed at her neck and worked the buttons of her shirt. Beverly let him, tangling her arms with his, reaching back to grip at his shirt, his hair- dishevel him and bring him down to she and Will’s level. Will watched as the clothing was pull away, leaving Beverly in her bra, and one of Hannibal’s hands splayed on the flat of her belly as she turned, kissed him again atop of Will.

"Fuck," Will groaned, and the two broke, smiled at him.

"I think dear Will is enjoying this," Hannibal breathed. Beverly only nodded, leaned down to worked the buttons of his shirt, mouthing at his chest as inch by inch was revealed. Will lost himself in the touches, groaned when she was removed from his body, but then both she and Hannibal’s hands were on him, stripping him, layer by layer disappearing until he was naked, Beverly was down to her underwear, and Hannibal had only his open button down and underwear. A rag tag of clothing left by desperate hands.

Will was shoved back onto his back again, down to the mattress, and Hannibal stretched out between his thighs, sucked him into his mouth and had Will howling. Beverly stared, transfixed for a moment, unable to look away at the stretch of Hannibal’s lips, the way Will pushed up into his mouth. 

Then she turned, stretched out and kissed Will’s mouth, swallowing the sounds he made, owning his mouth as Hannibal drove him wild, until his lover finally pulled off, reaching for Beverly. He twisted her hips so she lay mostly flat, draped partially over Will’s chest to continue kissing him, and tugged on her panties, tossing them off and then delving between her thighs.

Beverly moaned into Will’s mouth, pushed up, felt Hannibal’s tongue tracing lips and flesh and tasting her, sending her mind into blank spirals. Will clutched at her, pull from her mouth to lick at her neck, tugging at her bra until it was pushed away from her breasts, and he had his mouth on one, teasing a nipple and leaving her breathless.

When Hannibal pulled away from Beverly, she whined, but didn’t chase him. He was reaching over Will for the night stand, then flipping Will over, pulling him from Beverly, slicking up his fingers. She tossed her bra off and watched as Hannibal shoved two slick fingers into Will’s body, and the man arched, pushed back, cried out and closed his eyes in bliss. 

She felt in awe, reached out and danced her nails along his spine, unable to look away. Sometime, later, she told herself she would ask Hannibal to let her open Will up, to make him squirm the way he was. Another time.

There’d be another time.

Will arched, breathless, and Hannibal turned his head, looked at Beverly with a soft smile.

"I think you should give Will's mouth a good distraction." He winked at her- and that alone left her heart fluttering wildly, her thighs quivering. She crawled around Will, leaning back against the pillows, and it was as if Hannibal even suggesting it was enough to have Will grasping for her, pressing his face between her thighs and licking her, an almost franticness in his movements compared to Hannibal's controlled strokes of his tongue.

She tossed her head back, somehow that turned her on more, the idea that Will needed her, needed to please her- because Hannibal had merely suggested it. He moaned into her cunt, spread her legs more, and it was hard for her to believe that he was sucking cock all the time now- he knew what he was doing.

She looked down at him, watched him, dared to tangle her fingers in his curls. She heard him whine, once- then knew the moment Hannibal had thrust inside him by the way his body pushed forward, by the loud moan, the sound of Hannibal's own breath escaping. She looked up, locked eyes with him, bit her own lip and wished she could reach him for a kiss then, create a perfect shape between the three of them.

She settled for the way his eyes fucked right into her core, as he snapped his hips into Will who moaned so sweetly into her sex, who licked her with a need to bring her off, to have her trembling with him. He wouldn't last long, she had this feeling, knew it in her stomach. She had a feeling he usually didn't.

Somehow, that was hot.

Beverly tossed her head back, still felt Hannibal's eyes on her, in her, pushing inside and touching nerves no one ever had. She wondered how Will survived the man actually fucking him.

"William," he breathed, she heard it, and Will turned his head into her thigh, nearly screaming, biting at the tender flesh as he was shaking and she knew he was done, he was gone in his post orgasmic high. She slid down, squirming beneath him to catch his mouth for a kiss, push her tongue into his mouth as Hannibal continued to fuck him, his head tossed back until he was growling- Beverly committed the sound to memory, along with every whine Will gave her, and then Will's body stopped jerking with each thrust as Hannibal filled him.

Will slumped off to the side as Hannibal pulled out collapsing onto the mattress, and then Hannibal was in his place- naked now and Beverly was sorry she missed him finished stripping- on his knees and pulling her into a kiss, one hand between her thighs and teasing her, stroking slick lips and her clit and she was trembling and suddenly hurdling back up to the high she'd gotten near with Will's body. He fucked her mouth with his tongue and she moaned around it, tossing her arms around his neck and digging her nails into his back until she was falling off that cliff too, shaking with release and realizing she wasn't sure she was even breathing-

But Hannibal's mouth was too good.

She didn't need to breathe,

She had no idea how Will ever did.

When he pulled away she gasped, leaned back, panting, heard a snicker next to her. She turned, found Will staring at her, smirking- whatever shyness he had harbored earlier was gone now.

"Leaves you breathless doesn't he?"

She said nothing, watched as Hannibal crawled over Will, pressed up along his back and held him. Will offered a hand to Beverly, and she accepted, falling into his embrace and nestling in against his chest. His heard beat like a caged butterfly, a fascinating sensation against the soft feeling as he stroked her hair.

"Was that as horrible as you imagined, Will?" Hannibal asked, and Will shook his head, pressed his mouth to Beverly's hair.

"No," he breathed. "No. Can we do it again?"

Beverly laughed at that, squirming a hand up to cover her mouth. Hannibal was chuckling as well.

"Share your whiskey and fuck yes we can," Beverly said, and she felt a hand find her waist, stroke it. Hannibal's- having reached over Will, teasing her skin.

She mouthed at Will's throat, felt him squirm, and thought she might get her chance to open him up as soon as that evening.


	14. Isn't this how best friends act?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [harpsichordian](http://harpsichordian.tumblr.com/) posted, "Can someone write Will/Bev fics where they’re the best brotp there ever was in the history of ever"
> 
> She then called me out in the tags, because everyone knows I live for this brotp (and the ship is something glorious too).

"You ever think these people would realized checking out noises in a strange house in your underwear is a bad idea?"

Will rolled his eyes at Beverly, even if she couldn't see in the dark. They'd killed every light in his house, curled up on the couch, and were a chunk of the way into some movie that Will couldn't remember the name of. The pizza Beverly had come bearing was gone, they were a few beers into the night, and she had, already twice, smacked him loving.

As they were know, Beverly had her legs stretched over Will's lap, her feet fidgeting together in a way they always did. She had to be moving somehow.

"No seriously, who does that?"

"Shut up," Will said, "I can't hear over you! You're the one that wanted to watch this."

"I just think it's dumb. Put on some pants first? Maybe don't go exploring a dark house that isn't yours alone? Maybe get a kitchen knife or something." She tipped her head back, finished her beer, and set it off to the side, holding out her other hand towards Will. He passed her another, watched her pop the top off in the dark. "Just saying, if we did that we'd get our asses handed to us."

Will sighed, and Beverly stretched out more, shifting, sliding along the couch. "Don't end up upside down like last time," Will scolded, and Beverly pouted.

The last time Beverly had arrived for an evening with Will, she'd ended up stretched out, upside down, her feet up along the back of the couch. She'd complained she needed a straw to drink her beer at that point, and, Will of course having none, had tried anyway. She'd managed to spill it all over herself, and had had to wear one of Will's flannel shirts for the rest of the night.

He still hadn't gotten it back.

That didn't really bother him.

As the movie ticked on, Will found more entertainment in Beverly's commentary, even if he constantly hissed at her to shut up. He knew she wouldn't, she talked through everything they watched. It was one reason he'd never go see anything in a theater with her.

His phone rang towards the end, and Beverly cried out as he answered, speaking over the rush of the film. "Hi Hannibal."

"Tell Dr. Hot Ass to call back later," Beverly yelled, "this is the end!" Will pushed her legs off of him, standing up, saying yes, yes Hannibal had heard Beverly correctly. 

"Hannibal thanks you for finding his ass attractive," he said with a smile, and she perked up at that.

"Oh. Well, he's always welcome. Remember, if you two ever want a third person-" Will heard Hannibal laughing over the phone and rolled his eyes, walking away from Beverly and stepping outside to take his call. Beverly shrugged a shoulder and whistled, and suddenly the dogs were all getting up from around the room, pawing their way onto the couch with her to snuggle up for the rest of the film.

When Will returned the movie was over, and Beverly was buried in his dogs, looking content as could be. He burst out laughing, doubling over, and she grinned at him.

"I needed something to cuddle with you gone," she admitted with a shrug as the dogs piled off, rushing out the door Will held open. Beverly got up, click the TV off, and stretched. "You're gonna make up for the past twenty minutes by cuddling me all night."

"Hell no." He was smiling even as he said it, shaking his head, leaving Beverly to go brush his teeth, get the lingering taste of beer out of his mouth. He stripped while he was gone, came back in his underwear and a t-shirt, found Beverly had let the dogs back in and was sitting on his bed, her own clothes left in a pile on the floor.

She's gone down to her panties, had tossed on one of Will's many flannel shirts, and he folded his arms, tossing his weight to one hip.

"You already stole one of my shirts."

"Yeah well, I look good in them." She stuck her tongue out and he sighed, heading over and crawling into bed, over her and stretching out on his back. "Where's your phone, I want to take a selfie and send it to Hannibal."

"Hell no, he teases me about you enough."

Beverly laughed, found it, and held it up, giving a cheesy smile and snapping a picture. She sent it to Hannibal, with a quick _your boyfriend's shirts are comfy_ , and Will rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillows. He heard the phone buzz with a response, and mumbled,

"What did he say?"

"That we best remember to use protection," Beverly snorted out, laughing. "Also, and I quote, 'Goodnight Miss Katz. Please kiss William goodnight for me.'"

Will lifted his head as Beverly set the phone aside and laid down, squirming under the blanket with him. Her legs brushed his, and she inched over, rolling to her side and throwing her arms about him. Before Will could push her off, she kissed the corner of his mouth, laughing into the stubble she caught, and then she was rolling away, facing away from him.

"Just listening to the doctor's orders."

"Fuck off and go to sleep," Will said, his smile evident in his tone. She ran her foot along the curve of his calf, giggling, but said no more.

When Will eventually fell asleep, he was still smiling. He always smiled with Beverly, no matter how ridiculous she was. At the end of the day, after all the beer and the smart ass remarks, her snark and affection and teasing- she was Will's best friend, without a doubt. And he loved her for it.


	15. As good as dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [julstragedy](http://julstragedy.tumblr.com/) said, "Angsty Meme: "Just leave me ALONE!" or "It's all YOUR fault!" Something angry. :'D" (and specified in another message Hannigram).

"Just. Leave. Me. Alone." Will punctuated each word with bite, glaring at Hannibal from where he stood, on the porch of his home. His isolated slice of exclusion, his island. A place no one was supposed to penetrate. Especially this man-

This monster.

"That's a rather unwelcoming greeting, William," the man said, inclining his head, "Considering how long it's been."

Will's hands fisted at his sides. Beneath his t-shirt, his stomach burned. The long, curving, white scar, the pucker of a broken seam in flesh- it screamed knowing the man who had caused it was back. Back after three years of hunting. After letters and those little teasing hints left behind, after three years of Hannibal being a ghost- first a livid haunting, then a spot in a photograph, and then simply a ghost story-

He was living again.

"It could be a hundred years, I'd still want to see you burn." Hannibal dared to take a step, and Will turned, slamming his door shut. Oddly enough, he did not feel threatened by Hannibal's return- somewhere, he had known it was coming, in the back of his mind, the base of his spine. He knew Hannibal would return for him.

He'd gotten all his letters.

They read like classical love poetry.  
He'd burned all of them.

Will stormed through the house, to the kitchen for his whiskey. He heard the door open- he hadn't locked it, he could have, should have, didn't believe in it. No matter what, Hannibal was coming into his world again.

Will poured his whiskey into a glass, downed half of it as Hannibal appeared in the doorway. The dogs, lounging about the front room, hadn't so much as growled. few tails had wagged. They remembered Hannibal, they liked Hannibal- they hadn't known Hannibal was the one who had cut daddy open.

"Here to finish the job?" Will placed a hand against his belly, frowning. Hannibal watched the movement with keen eyes.

"I had not wanted to hurt you, Will. You left me no choice."

"Bullshit. Bull. Fucking. Shit." Will down the rest of his glass, slammed it down on his table. "I warned you! You...you could have left. Just gotten up and run."

"Not without you."

"You damn well left without me anyway." Will turned, poured himself more whiskey. His hands were shaking. His stomach burned like fire. He downed half the glass again. "Don't lie to yourself- to me. You stuck around because you wanted to shove a knife in my belly."

"You betrayed me, Will." Hannibal's voice gained life, inhaled the smoke from the flames in Will's eyes. "You lied. You would have taken my life- and if not that, at least my freedom. I let you see me, and you made your choice."

"Don't blame this on me!" Will slammed his glass down, whiskey sloshing onto the table. "This is all your fault! If you had run-"

"Then what? Would you chase me, William? Would you follow me through the confines of the world until you had me cornered?"

"Once." Will folded his arms, needed to build a wall between he and Hannibal. His scar was throbbing, it longed for something- to be touched, to have Hannibal examine his work. For him to approve of the wicked gash in Will's threads. "I would have, yes. Would have chased you, found you. Had you."

Hannibal's mouth went slack at that, left a slight part in those red lips. Will took the moment to take him in, properly. His hair was a bit longer, fully grey now. There was stubble on his chin, and without his suit, left in a dark button down, sleeves rolled up and well worn- he looked a different man. Will swallowed the lump in his throat. Thought, for a moment, about the possibility of forgetting what this man had done, thinking of this Hannibal as someone different from the put-together man who had torn everything apart.

But he knew he couldn't. Those hands were blood stained beneath the flesh, and Will knew if he let the man hold him, if he buried his face in the crook of his neck, there would be an underlying scent that was always Hannibal- blood and desire. Will would never forget it. He could never forgive it.

Will watched as all the realization washed over Hannibal. He had judged Will so wrong, and it made the younger man smirk now, an ugly movement of lips because he wanted Hannibal to break.

"You had your chance," Will said, "You made your choice. Get out of my house, Dr. Lecter- before I gut you, like you tried to gut me."

Hannibal took Will in one more time- his flannel shirt and curls and glasses and the ugly hatred in his eyes and on his lips. There was not a trace of the affection, the admiration, that had once graced his handsome features. It was replaced, drained and bled out on his kitchen floor and transfused in a hospital for a hatred most ugly.

Hannibal turned his back on Will, walking away from him. Will watched him disappear, listened to the door to his house opening and closing. He could have called it in, even if he'd given up his work with the FBI over a year ago. Somewhere he had Jack's number scribbled down- even if the man's zeal was gone, died with his sweet Bella. He could have called him, but it wasn't worth it.

Hannibal Lecter was as good as dead to Will, in that moment.

And Will Graham- he was as good as dead to himself as well.


	16. A beast inside his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [warpedchyld](http://warpedchyld.tumblr.com/) said, "Katz & Dogs (BroTP) "Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.""

Beverly pushed her way through the halls, shoving past students as they gathered around the classroom. She barked at them to move or she'd move them, and they parted, allowing her into the room.

The room was dark- the lights must have been off during the lecture. She couldn't see anyone, but she knew, somewhere, he was there.

Beverly advanced, towards the desk, and then around it, heard his breathing, a choked sob. "Will?" she whispered, circled around it and the dropped down to her knees, peeking below. In the small space where his chair could have been tucked in, Will was curled up, below the desk. Hidden away from the world. "Hey," she whispered, trying to sound soothing. He twitched, looked at her, but she wasn't sure if he saw her. "Will, it's me. It's Bev."

He stared at her, in his eyes her eyes were piercing black, opalescent obsidian, her hair a nest of wild black snakes, baring venom filled fangs at him. Her mouth didn't move as she spoke, and her skin was ashen grey, cracked like stone. She was a living statue of some god awful sin he had no name for.

He whined and tried to squirm further away. Beverly reached out to him, touched his leg, and he cried out, burying his face, beginning to pant.

"Will." She didn't know what else to say, except his name. Over and over, as if to try and sink her hook into him, drag him back to the surface. She'd heard word he'd had an attack mid-lecture, but she didn't realize it would be this bad. Mentally, she thought perhaps she should try to see Dr. Lecter herself- let him know how bad this was. Even if Will's brain scan showed nothing, there was something seriously wrong.

She swallowed down the idea of mental illness.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She ran her hand up his leg a little, partially crawled under herself, managed to find his hand were it gripped his curls. She brushed her fingers over his knuckles, and he peeked at her, this time the monster gone- only Beverly remained, offering him a worried, but loving, smile.

"Bev?"

"Hey, there you go. C'mon champ, come out here with me." Beverly crawled out and slowly, Will followed. Beverly settled on the floor, and Will, without coaxing, without being asked, slipped into her arms, buried his face into her collar and shook, sobbing. "You're safe Will, I've got you now." She wrapped her arms around him, rocked him once, pressed her mouth down into his curls.

"They think I'm crazy," he whispered into her shirt. "They think I'm insane. The scan's can't find anything. They think I'm mentally ill."

"Don't listen to them." Beverly tightened her hold on him, rocked him again, held him like he was her broken child, and she was the only sheild he had to the world. "Don't ever listen to them, any of them. Your students, the FBI, the fucking doctors. Don't even listen to Dr. Lecter if he drives you to this." 

"But-"

"You're not ill, Will. Not in the permanent sense. There's something making you sick, but we'll find it. We'll fix the world for you." Will said nothing, lifted his eyes again, and for a moment her black hair was snakes again, hissing at him. He squeezed his eyes shut, felt feverishly hot, and when he opened them again he was alone in the world, alone in Beverly's hold, and outside the door was the monster- the big bad beast that wanted to eat him alive.  
The door, however, was simply his eyelids. His monsters lurked deep inside his brain, curling infectious heat over his mind and slowly suffocating him.


	17. Lucas losses his confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [dizzytealfox](http://dizzytealfox.tumblr.com/) asked, "Wilucadam "I'm not cut out for this.""

Lucas watched them both, Will and Adam, was they romped in the yard with the dogs. Will was tossing sticks for most of the pack, while Adam was on the ground, Will's two smallest dogs and Fanny happily climbing all over him.

They were laughing, and it carried through the cool fall air, echoed off the walls of Lucas's skull. He cast his eyes away, leaning on the railing, looked back again, found Will had fallen onto his butt next to Adam, was leaning over and laughing, kissing the young man who giggled. They were interrupted as Winston shoved his face in, expecting his own kisses with a happy wag of his tail.

Lucas's stomach tightened and he turned, slipping back into the silent house. He made his way towards the kitchen, where the plates from dinner sat in the sink. Will's whiskey glass sat on the table, with a shot left, and he picked it up, throwing his head back and finishing it off, before refilling it. He took another drink, tasted Will's mouth, and it made his stomach ache again.

They were perfect, Adam, Will, the both of them. Together, too. Adam was so sweet, so intelligent, passionate and quite selfless now. He had loved Lucas when the world had cast him out, had branded him with lies and would rather watch him fade to dust then accept a truth they had been wrong about.

And Will- he was fascinating. Perfectly attractive to the point of making Lucas want to scream, wounded yes but so lovely to care for. 

And Lucas- he was nothing. Standing there, alone, nursing whiskey that tasted like Will, he felt it. He wasn't good enough for these men, he wasted space in a bed that he shouldn't have a part of.

He shook his head, swallowed down the rest of the whiskey, was pouring another glass when the door opened and the dogs rushed in. He heard Will and Lucas, their happy chatting voices, Adam's playful shriek- Will must have smacked his ass, Lucas knew the sound well- and then they were appearing in the kitchen.

"Hey, did you start the dishes?" Will asked as they stepped in, "'Cause we can help- Lucas?" Will stopped, stared at one of his lovers, the whiskey glass in hand, his brown eyes seeming faded. Water colors diluted for too long. Will tilted his head, frowning, heard Adam still in the front room, getting the dogs comfortable. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing." Lucas finished the whiskey in one continuous drink, walked to the sink and set the glass in the water, rolling his sleeves up. "Go sit with Adam, I'll take care of these."

Will frowned, didn't like how stand offish Lucas was being. It wasn't like him. Instead of listening, he headed over, pressed a warm, firm hand between the man's shoulders blades and rubbed as Lucas began washing the dishes.

"You wanna talk about it?" A shake of the head. Will sighed. "Okay. Okay then, I won't ask again. Will you at least let me dry?" Lucas said nothing, and Will moved next to him, picked up a dish towel and began drying the dishes and stacking them on the counter. "Adam wants to take the dogs on a long walk tomorrow, through the fields and maybe into the woods. I thought it'd be a fun trip. I know you'll want to hunt when the season starts, you can check out the area."

Lucas nodded, and Will took a breath, trying to pass beyond the heavy silence.

"And maybe we can just get a pizza tomorrow, curl up and not have to worry about cooking or anything." Another nod, and Will huffed a sigh, setting the plate he was drying down. "Okay I lied, I'm asking again. Lucas darlin', what is going on?"

Lucas pulled his hands from the sink, taking the dish rag and drying them. "I'm not cut out for this." It was simple, and he offered no more. Will frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"This. All of this." He waved his hand around. "You and Adam- I'm not cut out for it." Will felt his stomach tighten suddenly, drop, and he reached a hand out for the counter, grabbing the lip. His head spun once.

"You mean...the relationship?" Lucas nodded, and Will was dizzy. "Lucas...why?" He wanted to pitch his body into him, to clutch at his shirt suddenly. In a moment Will was breathless.

"You two are perfect," Lucas whispered, looking at the stake of dishes and not Will. "You bring so much. Adam is a treasure, you are fascinating- and I'm nothing. I bring nothing for you two." He said something Will didn't understand, a line or two in Danish, and Will reached out, clutched at his shirt- wanted to laugh because they were both in plaid, Lucas red and Will blue.

"What do you mean you're nothing?" He asked, clutching, moving closer, almost falling into the man. Lucas wrapped an arm around his waist, steadied him, and Will stared up with wild, stormy eyes. "You have no idea how much you are to me, Lucas. How safe you make me feel. Without you I...I don't know. I love Adam. I love him more than I thought I could love someone- but that goes for you as well. Adam would protect me, but you- you just make me feel safe. You bring me safety, Lucas. Don't...don't take that from me."

Will's eyes teared up and he looked away, and Lucas had his other arm around him, pressing his face to his chest and stroking his curls, rocking him slowly. Will hiccuped, once. "Please don't leave me."

Lucas dipped his head down, kissed Will's curls, whispered his apology. "I'm sorry, min søde," he whispered, then another kiss. "Will please, don't cry."  
"Then don't leave. Unless...Unless you want to. If it's for you, then I won't stop you. But...But Adam and I love you." Will looked up at him, and in a fit pressed his mouth to Lucas's, kissing him frantically, needy and feeling wild. "Love you," he managed to get out, and he was sliding along Lucas in a way that made the man dizzy. "So much."

Lucas clutched him, drank down his words, the rawness Will exposed in his desperation. And he was sorry, sorry he had ever mentioned it, ever thought it. It didn't matter who had not wanted him back home, who had left him out in the cold. It didn't matter, because it was no longer reality. Only Will, only Adam- their small home and the dogs and the feeling of the two of them curled up with him.

"Leave the dishes," Will whispered, and Lucas nodded, taking his hand, following him from the kitchen. Adam was sitting on their bed, flipping through one of his magazines on space, and looked up, smiling at the two. Will said nothing, crawled onto the beg, nearly dragging Lucas, and forced him to lay down in the center.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, setting his magazine aside, and then Lucas was grabbing him, pulling him down into his arms and holding him. The youngest man laughed, squirmed, managed to grab one of Lucas's hands and kissed his knuckles. Will squirmed on Lucas's other side, kissing his cheek, smiling over Adam's laughter.

And Lucas took his words back in that moment. He thought perhaps he was cut out for this. It just took gentle reminders.


	18. Sickening truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hanni-Babe](http://hanni-babe.tumblr.com/) asked, "hannigram "I'm gonna be sick" (sorry i sent you two okay bye)"
> 
> (And I went out of order with hers because I can XD)

Will reached his hand out, grasping at the dashboard. He felt hot, feverish, his stomach rolling. If he dared to try and see the trees along the road, in the dark, he was sure his mind would spin and never stop.

"Fuck, Hannibal," he groaned, reaching up and pressing his hand to his mouth. "Stop, please. I'm gonna be sick."  
Hannibal had been watching him, the color draining from Will's face. He had been ghostly when Hannibal picked him up from the crime scene, but now- not he seemed washed out as snow, ink that had faded with water and age to nothingness.

Hannibal pulled the car over and Will fought with the door, managed to get it open and dump himself out on the ground. He managed to crawl a few feet from the door and then he was coughing, retching into the dirt on the side of the road.

Hannibal made his way around the car, crouching down, reaching a hand out to Will. Will squirmed away, coughed again, gagged, but held his stomach in. Hannibal frowned, this time connected his hand with Will's shoulder blade, and then Will retched again, whining at the end, sounding as if his insides were being ripped out.

Hannibal pulled his hand back, watching the man fall apart. There was dirt all over his pants, even his shirt now, and he was shaking. Fevered with fear.

Hannibal knew it was his fault.

Will's revelations about who he was, what he was- they had been painful, but Will had stayed. Will had let him touch him still, hold him- pin him to the mattress and take him and scream out his love for him. But that had been when there was still a separation- he had never looked on a scene and known the Ripper was none other than Hannibal Lecter, his almost-therapist-turned-friend-turned-lover.

Until today.

Will groaned, his cheeks wet, and gave a dry heave, having nothing left in his stomach. Hannibal stayed crouched, not touching, only watching, as Will tried to push himself up from the dirt.

"Sorry," the man mumbled, and Hannibal wrung his hands together. A movement so unlike him, had Will' head been in a calm place, he would have been worried.

"No need to apologize." He reached out, didn't touch, let his hand hover by Will's face. Will pushed closer, until Hannibal's hand touched his forehead, could brush his wet curls from the skin. Will sighed, nestled into the touch, and Hannibal smiled.

He stood up, offering a hand, and Will took it, allowing Hannibal to pull him up. He tried to brush the dirt off his clothing, turn and spit to try and get the sour taste out of his mouth.

"Sorry I'm a mess," he muttered, unable to fully clean his clothing off.

"It is no matter. We'll get you a hot shower once we reach my home. I'll...have dinner ready by the time you're done." Hannibal had hesitated, watched Will's face. His lover nodded, eyes looking faded, tired, and had said nothing. He remained pale. "Perhaps you will have no appetite."

"I don't think I will."

Hannibal nodded, couldn't help the tightening in his belly, the heavy weight of sadness. He hoped, someday, that Will would return to his table with ease, that his initial touch would not make him ill, not make him squirm or flinch.

But now, now he had a face to put to the massacres he found. He knew what was served at Hannibal's table, he knew what the man was capable of.

Hannibal worried that as time passed, Will would find himself unable to reconcile his conscious and his desires. Hannibal worried that, someday, Will would find he would not love Hannibal through all that the man was driven to do.

And Hannibal craved that love, to the point of despair. In his stomach, if he were honest with himself, it was the thing he hungered for, the only thing. The rest, what his hands created, what his tongue tasted, things that were a part of him, now. Things he could not stop, not for Will, not for himself.

If Will couldn't love him through it, it would be the inevitable death of them both.


	19. Only option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "hannigram maybe something with "Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you… ?""

Will sat in his living room, rocking a glass in one hand. The whiskey sloshed, swirled, a dark amber that he couldn't see in the dark anyway. It didn't matter. He drank so much of it he had the color memorized.

There was a letter in his lap, open, read once, twice. It was like the others, love and longing and the miss of an intimacy that the two had once shared. Hannibal's penmanship was still so elegant, Will could try to trace the words with his fingers, think of those skilled hands on his body, closing over his throat to hold him steady as Hannibal kissed him, drew out his soul and swallowed it down into the pit of his belly.

Will downed the rest of his whiskey and grabbed the bottle from the table next to his chair, refilling it. Another sip, but it still hurt, the words on the paper. Hannibal's love hurt. He'd been locked up three months now. Will hadn't gone to see him once. And he begged- or more, he requested lovingly, almost pleaded, in his letters, to see Will. Even if briefly, to hear his voice, smell his scent, for the chance to take him in and commit him to memory.

Will knew Hannibal already had him memorized.

Will closed his eyes, but the black of his eyelids seemed just an extension of the black of his house, endless, as if the rooms opened wide like gaping mouths into great halls, a waiting labyrinth for him to get lost in. And he had. He had missed so many of his classes Will was sure they'd fire him soon, if he didn't change. Alana had covered him at first, but then there had been no choice but for Quantico to find a temporary replacement.

Will hadn't worked a case since Hannibal's incarceration. Jack called and he didn't answer. Alana visited and he locked himself in the bathroom and didn't answer the door. He did his grocery shopping after dark, when he remembered at all.

The only things he needed were food for the dogs and whiskey. Everything else was secondary.

Will kept his eyes closed, finished off his whiskey again. The dark around him swarmed, stretched open, gawked at him and there was a growl, an angry sound. The demons behind Will's eye lids, inside his head, calling him, calling him home.

He opened his eyes to the darkness of his house. He dropped his glass on the table, heard the glass clink, and grabbed the bottle, getting up and taking Hannibal's letters with him to his desk. He sat sat down, tossed them on it, took a swig right from the bottle and grabbed a pen, scrawling out on a piece of paper with no heading, no introduction-

Ever wonder if the world would be better without you?

That was all he ever wrote to Hannibal. Over the past three months, he'd scrawled it over and over and over again, had never once sealed and sent the letter, but had wanted to, in these moments when his blood was sluggish with whiskey.

"Fuck you," he muttered, to no one in particular. To Hannibal, for severing the halves of Will's life and leaving him to drown in the seams. To himself for loving the man, for having to hole up in his house for fear he would break, see him, love him and cry for him.

He had to escape Hannibal, his words and his love and the strings that tied them together.

Will had to escape himself.

He took another swig from the whiskey bottle, continued to scribble his question over and over and over again. The house around him creaked, felt as if it expanded, took the dogs and left him alone in the cavern of his own chest, where he was drowning in the icy cold breath of nothing. He was swallowed up, but it was the opposite feeling of being trapped in his skin, this nothing he wallowed in, day after day, strung together by streams of whiskey and Hannibal's letters.

Will had ever letter. He stored them in his desk. Instead of shoving this latest one in, he lifted it, pressed it to his trembling lips- when had they started trembling?- kissed the words that had come from Hannibal's fingers, kissed the shapes the man had created.

Wished the paper was Hannibal. Wished he was with him, curled up in his warmth, and not the opening endlessness of his house.

Will looked down at his paper, and whispered, quietly to himself, "Ever wonder if the world would be a better place without you?"

Will was sure the world would be far better without him. He was sure reality would stop spinning, this emptiness around him would disappear, if he simply ceased to exist.

Most nights, that was a charming idea.

Tonight, it seemed his only option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well fuck, that's depressing.


	20. Please come get me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hanni-Babe](http://hanni-babe.tumblr.com/) asked, "wilucadam "Please come get me.""

Will was shaking, raking his hands through his hair as he stood in the halls of the BSHCI. In his mind, Hannibal's voice still rang true, fresh.

"Hello Will."

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take deep, controlled breaths. He leaned against the wall, fished into his coat for his phone and hit the first contact he saw, waiting as the phone rang.

"Hello?" Adam was blanketed by the sound of the radio, by Lucas's voice as he spoke in Danish about something.

"Please," Will whispered, eyes closed as he swallowed the lump in his throat, "Come get me." He heard Adam swallow, say something to Lucas- in a mix of English and Danish, Will knew Adam's Danish was improving every day, and then back to Will, "Okay. Lucas says we'll be there in five minutes. Come out, we'll take you home."

Will hung up, stuffing his phone in his pocket, and hurried through the hospital. The corridors were cold, echoed around him, felt as if they were warped, opening and closing as he moved. They made Will dizzy, and he put his hand out, ran it along the wall as he moved to keep upright.

When he finally broke free he gulped down the air around him, the winter sun, the chill that he let sink down to his bones. He wanted it to erase the pressure Hannibal's presence had settled in them.

He closed his fists, dug his blunt nails into his palms, told himself Hannibal was back there, in a cage- like an animal. He was gone and he couldn't touch Will, couldn't hurt Will.

Oh, but he could love him, in that cage. And Will knew he could love Hannibal, too.

He came to at the sound of his name, of a car door opening and Adam tumbling out, nearly tripping, managing to make his way up to him. The man threw his arms around Will, hugged him to his warm chest, then was taking his hand, guiding him away from the hospital, to the car, the back. He crawled in with him, and Lucas pulled the car into traffic, sight set on home.

Will leaned back into the seat, closed his eyes. He tried not to picture Hannibal's eyes, the contours of his face, the perfect red curve of his mouth. He tried not to remember what that mouth felt like, those hands, the weight of his body pressing in like an anchor, holding him down to reality.

That reality had been a lie.

He was about to get lost in those thoughts, when he felt Adam curl up to him, press his chest to Will's arm and hold on. He opened his eyes, glanced down, but Adam was looking, his head was resting against Will and he was locking the rock of the car mellow him. 

"You're always so warm," Adam mused, quietly, "You make me sleepy."

In the front Lucas chuckled, glancing back at Will through the rear view mirror. He gave the man a smile, one up to his lovely brown eyes, and Will found he was smiling back. Suddenly the curve of Hannibal's mouth was gone, replaced with that smile. The press of his body was Adam's warm, slight weight next to him, holding onto him.

Will leaned his head back, closed his eyes again. He didn't fail to notice that neither man spoke of how Will visiting Hannibal had been a bad idea, although he knew they both had thought so. They didn't rub their correct assumptions in his face.

They comforted, instead. They took the gaps in his chest and filled them with honey kisses, sticky and sweet, until Will could breath without drowning once again.


	21. He breathes in tar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibelle-Lecter](http://hannibelle-lecter.tumblr.com/) asked, "For the angst prompt please! "Look at me - just breathe, okay?" Pairing: Hannigram, of course! Thanks girl. Can't wait to see what you come up with."
> 
> I've taken so many prompts from this angst meme that I'm getting experimental. Not sure if that's a good thing or not.

There was a heavy ocean of black around him, streaming in his ears, up his nose and forcing its way beneath his eyelids. Will clawed through it, thick like tear, heavy like lead, and then at his face, at the skin. It pushed through pores into his body, infected his blood and made his heart seize, his chest tighten, tighten, until his ribs were crushing, caving in and piercing his lungs and his heart like antlers. Will bent, bent so far his spine snapped and still he bent, felt muscle and tissue tear and his insides crush as still the darkness pushed in deeper. When he opened his mouth to scream it clawed inside, began to pull his insides up his throat, to leave him hallow, ready to accept every last bit of heavy black that drowned him.

Will's eyes snapped open, his breath catching. He reached up, clawed at his throat, arched and thrashed, and Hannibal was roused next to him, pushing himself up and leaning over him.

"Will?" He reached out, grasped at the man's hands, pulled them away from his throat. Will's eyes were rolling back, his chest heaving with each shallow, rapid breath. "Look at me," Hannibal instructed, watched Will's eyes creep back, stare up at his shadowed face in the dark. "Just breathe, okay? Slowly, beloved." He pressed a hand to Will's chest, held it firm to keep it from rising, and then slowly eased his hand up, then pushed back down. He guided Will's breaths, until the younger man held the rhythm on his own, and then Hannibal settled down on his side next to him, tracing his hand up along his arm. "It was just a nightmare, Will."

Will nodded, licked his dry lips, took Hannibal's hand when it was offered. He clung to it, wished the nightmares would stop. These weren't the same, weren't what he suffered when he was ill. He was always drowning in these, being invaded by that cold, thick black, like tar and ice. It pushed into his body more nights than not.

"Sleep, beloved," Hannibal whispered, pressing a kiss to his jawline. "I am here. I will chase the nightmares away."

Will nodded, closed his eyes to seek out slumber once more. What he didn't know, couldn't know, was that Hannibal himself was that darkness, icy tar that wormed his way under his skin and broke his bones. Hannibal was the black that Will couldn't escape, and he would never know, not while he slept in Hannibal's bed.

He would never know, until it was too much and he choked on his own screams even in the very end.


	22. Don't trust me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Haanigram](http://haanigram.tumblr.com/) asked, "CAN YOU DO MADS!ROCHEFORT & HUGH!D'ARTAGNAN "Don’t trust me.""
> 
> I haven't seen this movie all the way through, or if I had it was a long time ago. So I went by horrible memory and a little clip I watched and I probably butchered it x.x

Rochefort's hand was buried in D'artagnan's curls, fingers tangled so that when he pulled, the boy's head jerked. Grey eyes glanced up at him from thick lashes, his pretty mouth stretched wide, Rochefort's cock buried up over his tongue. The older man smirked, a wicked twist of his lips, pushed further into that wet heat. D'artagnan's eyes rolled a little, his breath stuck in his throat as he choked, and that only made Rochefort chuckle.

"Shouldn't trust a man on his word," he teased, a slow rock in his hips as he lazily fucked the boy's mouth. "Especially when he says he'll be gentle."

D'artagnan tried to swallow around his cock, the movement causing Rochefort to groan. The boy's mouth was possibly the sweetest he'd ever had, and he wished he'd kissed it before he'd pushed him down to his knees. He wished he's teased his lips until they were kiss-swollen, hyper sensitive and perfect to pinch between his sharp teeth.

Be tipped his head back, inhaled deeply as D'artagnan grasped at his thighs, running his hands along them, squirming as he tried to work his cock with just his mouth. He was sure the boy was hard too, imagined his cock flushing and leaking in his own pants, confined and untouched.

He'd like to make him scream some night, see the flushed velvet skin bobbing against the boy's belly.

Another night.

He'd have to make there be another night.

He looked back down at the boy, his eye focused on him, ashen hair free of it's pony tail and brushing his shoulders. D'artagnan swallowed him again, moaned around his cock, and that sound sent the pressure at the base of his spine and in his belly straight to his balls, curling hot and tight, and he gritted his teeth.

"Don't trust a man on his word," he hissed again, and reached down, pulling his cock free from D'artagnan's mouth. He stroked, and on the third thrust into his hand his orgasm hit, raced through him. He growled, possessive, painted D'artagnan's mouth and chin in pearl streams. The boy's eyes widened, and Rochefort held his head still by his hair, until his orgasm had ceased. Then he shoved him back, sending the boy to the floor, sprawling there as the older man tucked himself back into his pants. "And especially don't trust me."

He turned, leaving the boy as he was, licking his slick lips and tasting the pleasure he'd caused, hard to the point of aching in his pants. Once he was out of sight, he knew D'artagnan would take matters into his own hands, had liked being choked on his cock, having his pretty mouth painted. 

It was only a matter of time until the boy crawled back for more.

That left Rochefort smirking, imagining all the things he could do.


	23. She tastes of calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Harpsichordian](http://Harpsichordian.tumblr.com/) asked, "DID YOU NOTICE HOW FAR THEY WERE FROM EACH OTHER IN APÉRITIF AND HOW CLOSE THEY ARE IN MUKOZUKE I WANT TO CRY PLZ WRITE ME A FLUFFY W/B ;_______;"
> 
> I owe her for putting together an AMAZING Katz & Dogs gif set for me. Plus she is my K&D bff 5ever. Except that instead of brotp fluff I gave her brotp/ship hybrid slight angst.

Will didn't have a real reason to give her, when he called. He knew he didn't need one. Beverly would have come if he had called and simply breathed into his phone- he didn't need to give her words. He had, regardless, just asked, please, and she was there, in the cool autumn dusk, hands in her pockets as they walked the fields behind his house. She was close, didn't touch, but Will knew he could- she could. It'd be easy.

He kept his own hands in his pockets as they walked. 

"It's nice here, I can see why you like it." She was looking off at the colors on the horizon, bright and running like water colors. "I think, if I was living in your head, I'd never want to leave."

"Most days I don't." He stopped, shook his head, glasses dipping down his nose. He reached up to push them up, the metal growing cold, was happy he had thought to wear his scarf, his hat- even his gloves. There was almost always some garment he forgot.

And tonight was particularly cold.

Beverly gave him a nod, didn't say anything else, inclined her head to study him. Will knew when he was being watched, contemplated- he saw it from Hannibal all the time, he felt the way eyes poked at his pores, tried to slip under his skin.

Beverly's gaze never seemed to intrude, though. Instead it skimmed, it touched without her hands, it felt without her finger tips. It was almost enjoyable.

"Why do you?" she finally asked, "Why bother leaving?"

"You mean why bother throwing myself into the maelstrom Jack considers a job?"

"Yeah...that." Will chuckled, began walking again, and she kept pace.

"Because I help people. I save lives." _Except you don't- not anymore. You love the man who takes them, you let the Ripper run free because you're a slave to his lips and finger tips. You don't stand for shit, Graham, and you're a fool to think you do._

"Yeah, but do you stop to think about your own life?" Beverly took a rushed step, cut in front of Will and stopped, turning on her heel to keep him from walking away. "I'm sure Hannibal worries."

"I don't want to talk about Hannibal." Beverly frowned.

"Did something happen between you two?" Will shook his head.

"No, we're- we're fine. I just don't want to talk about him." She shrugged, casually, eased a step in so she was closer. Will could almost feel her, a space of heat against the evening's chill. A living, breathing, beautiful thing in a dark and desolate landscape he called home.

Life, among all the death.

"Well I worry. I worry a lot. I care about your life way more than I do a stranger's. No one can deny what you do is amazing, Will- but miracles take their toll. I don't want to see you run yourself into the ground." She reached out, leather gloved hand clutching his arm, and he could feel the power there, a grip that could hold far more than one would think. She was something inhuman, something ethereal. Beverly walked among something far greater than simple man.

Will didn't have a name for it. He didn't want to give it a name.

Instead he let his eyes flick to her hand, tilting his head down so his glass slid again. She stepped closer, into his space, and very gently pushed them up with her free hand, watching him with her dark eyes. Eyes that didn't hurt, eyes that comforted him.

Will wanted to say her name, wanted to say something, but he couldn't, didn't, wouldn't. Instead he tasted her breath in the air, smelled the scent of cotton and sunflowers that made it seem like summer when he was close to her, and forgot for a moment who he was, what she was, where they were- forgot it all and leaned in closer, hovering over her mouth for a second. Just a moment, enough time for her to say no, to say anything at all.

She didn't, and he kissed her, calmly, slowly. A gentle glide, a slight tilt to his head, and her hand on his arm tightened, held and did not push away. Her other hand pushed up, felt with smooth leather along his beanie, and Will wrapped himself around Beverly, pulled her so close she was flush to his chest. He found a courage in him, deep rooted in curiosity and a smoldering desire, and pressed into her mouth, drank down the small, shocked sound she gave him- reveled in the gentle nip to his tongue, the way her own chased his back.

And then he was breathing against her lips, the kiss gone, and he missed it like it harbored a hundred year absence. His grip loosened on her, slightly, and he leaned closer, dared to whisper "sorry" against her mouth as he stole one more. Then he pulled back, felt her hand trail down his arm, find his own hand and take it, squeeze it gently.

He wanted her, so much then. Not as a possession, not to own, not in the way he craved Hannibal. He wanted her to make him stable, to tell him the world was upright and that he could step out of the beastly swamps Jack sent him to. He could leave it all behind and clutch to her at night, and she would make it alright. With her smile, her laugh, those finger tips that he wished had been free of leather, able to sink into his hair.

But she was beyond his reach. Will couldn't fool himself. Beverly was his best friend, and what he was thinking- it was crazy.

_You couldn't to it anyway, Graham. She's better for you- she's stable. She's not a monster. But you would crawl back to him, you'd miss him, crave him like a sweet bullet to your heart. You'll never be free of Hannibal._

"Hey," Beverly offered, noticing the suddenly far-gone look in Will's eyes. "Look, let's head back. Let's get a drink, curl up with the dogs. Make a night out of this." She hooked her arm in his, turned him towards the small shape that was his house. She was warm and there, and Will wondered if her lips were filled with static like his own, buzzing. He wondered if she would remember the kiss in the morning, if she'd stay the night and stretch out on his couch with the dogs.

He wondered if she'd curl up around him in bed, if he'd wake up with her fingers in his hair. He had, once, once upon a nightmare and screams from a raw and swollen throat. He hoped for it, again.

Beverly breathed stability into him. He would be lost without her- but he could manage, he knew, if she remained as she was. Ethereal and not fully his, but belonging to no one.

Besides, he was damned to Hannibal's side for life. He knew he would only tarnish her pearl wings.


	24. Lost in the snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "I NEED HANNIGRAM FLUFF. Oh wait, I apologize, that sounded rude. Ahem, may I please have some Hannigram fluff? Thank you kindly :) Maybe where Will wakes up shivering in the snowy woods near his house after a particularly frightening nightmare (maybe he lost hannibal? its up to you) and hannibal finds him and warms him up and realizes how deeply he actually cares for will and its just oh so sweet and fluffy awww i love those cute babies"
> 
> I was done writing for the night when I got this, but then decided to do it anyway. Hannigram fluff was what my night needed to turn around too c:

His muscles tightened to the point of pain, his eye lids snapping open as if they were spring loaded. Will gasped, saw his breath in the air above in, the dark night closing in around him like wild, clawing hands. He forced himself to sit up, his back cold, snow melting through his thing t-shirt, his underwear. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivered, barefoot with his toes going numb.

He looked around, could make out trees and little else. Will had no idea where he truly was, how he had gotten there- the last thing he knew, he was asleep, in his bed, surrounded by his dogs with a presence next to him- not touching, hovering. Hannibal's shape, a reminder of his existence in Will's world. They didn't touch, when they slept. Hannibal might touch Will from time to time during the day, he might touch Will when the urge for intimacy arose- but when they slept, Hannibal was separate. If they slept together at all.

Having Hannibal sleeping in his home at all was a victory, and one Will would take. He couldn't explain Hannibal's lack of contact when they slept, but he respected it. He presumed it was a sort of barrier, to keep himself from Will, to keep separate and reserved. Maybe he didn't want to get invested-

Will didn't blame him, especially in that moment.

He was about to stand up, or try to, to attempt to get his bearings and find his way home. He was shivering something fierce, but didn't move when he heard the breaking of branches- shoes crunching over snow. A light flicked around him, suddenly, a small white beam, and he stared up at the shape in the faint moonlight holding it.

Hannibal stared down at him, his hair slightly ruffled from the bed, and Will could have cried out, so happy to see him. instead, he bit it in, kept it down, stared up before finally offering a timid, "hi". Hannibal said nothing, extended a hand, and Will accepted it, was pulled up onto his shaky legs. He took a step, stumbled, and Hannibal caught him, pulled him in against his chest. Will collapsed into the heat, his shivering intensifying, felt an arm around him.

"Can you walk?"

"I-I think so." Will's feet hurt, as Hannibal lead him slowly back in the direction of his house, each step over the snow like dagger of ice embedding into his blood, but he gritted his teeth against it and said not a word. He was embarrassed enough, to have Hannibal have to hunt him down in the night like lost dog, lead him back to the house.

Once inside, Will wanted to collapse right onto the floor. He pulled his wet, cold t-shirt off over his head and balled it up, tossing it away as Hannibal stripped of his jacket and gloves, stepping out of his shoes. Hannibal watched him disappear, only to reappear a moment later with a towel, drying himself off.

"Do you feel ill?" Will shrugged.

"No, just like a damn popsicle. I must have had a nightmare, I just...I don't remember much. Just waking up. Sorry about...this." He gestured to himself, gave a nervous laugh, which ended in a cough. Hannibal frowned, stepping forward, in his pajamas. Will realized he hadn't bothered to properly dress, and that had him blushing.

"Take these off," Hannibal said, skimming a hand down Will's side, brushing the waistband of his underwear. Will's blush deepened- though he couldn't be sure why. Hannibal had seen him naked, and touched and tasted his body like he was a course at one of his dinner parties, yet suddenly Will felt like a virginal boy, told to strip for the first time.

Still, he obeyed, as Hannibal flicked off the light, leaving them on the floor with the towel. He could worry about them in the morning. Hannibal walked back to the bed, pulled the covers back, and Will tentatively climbed in, naked and feeling the slight heat that remained from where his body had lain earlier- where Hannibal's had.

He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose, trying to piece together what exactly was going on, when he heard the whispering of cloth moving along skin, being dropped off a body, and then the bed dipping as Hannibal climbed over him. Will expected that to be it, but suddenly there was an arm around him, turning him, pulling him back against Hannibal's chest.

Will squirmed, heard Hannibal hushing him, stroking a hand along the curls at his temple as Will's back fit perfectly against his warm chest and belly, as Hannibal entangled them. "Let me warm you up," he soothed, kissed Will's curls, and the brunet went silent, still, melting into the touch and presence as if Hannibal were fire himself, and Will were snow.

His heart was hammering, and he couldn't fathom what had brought Hannibal to touch him. All he knew was his heat was welcome, his skin velvet and silk that encased Will in a dream like cocoon, left him free to drift into sleep. And with Hannibal's arm locked around him, he suddenly didn't fear venturing into the snow again. He felt locked into the bed, and it was pleasing.

He reached for Hannibal's hand as it rested on his belly, lay his own over it and pressed it into his skin. Vaguely, Will might have realized this was the first time he had slept walked out of a building, a controlled and confined space, when sleeping with Hannibal. In the morning, he might realize that perhaps the touch, so long craved and held off, was indeed restricted as a way to keep Hannibal separate in his existence from Will.

But in that moment all he knew was that Hannibal was warm, comforting, grounding. He knew he couldn't move and didn't want to, and felt his mind going to static as Hannibal whispered into his hair, "Don't run away from me again, dear William."

His grip around Will tightened, and Will had no idea the terror that had risen in Hannibal, upon waking alone. Could not understand the way that Hannibal's walls and crumbled even with the lack of touch, at the attempt at separation, during what was such an open and intimate time. He had no idea that Hannibal clutched him, even as he slept now, as if Will were a stolen treasure that might be taken back from him at any moment.


	25. Quite a show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://color-division.tumblr.com/post/80355561593/the-real-reason-chilton-canceled-the-appointment) post on tumblr, because I'm a brat and I hijack posts to write smut.

Will's head was feverish, light and spinning. Even with his eyes open, he could barely see, nothing but dancing wisps of shadows and surges of sudden white, heated light. But he could hear, against the drumming of blood in his temples, hear that voice that meant he should have been grounded, should not have been floating.

He tipped his head back, groaning because there was an ache in his body, a hum of arousal running through his veins, pressing in almost painfully at the base of his spine. There was a cool hand around his cock, stroking slowly, had been there for some time tormenting him. His shaft was slick from his own pre-cum, made it easier for him to lift his hips and seek out that hand, push into it.

He wanted release, wanted it so badly- wanted that hand to move faster, to twist around the head of his cock like he loved, to grant him a cool kiss against the inferno that raged within him.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself, Will." The voice made him groan, almost pained, squeeze his eyes shut against the white lights and near-seizing shadows. He pushed into the hand, felt it tighten, and the groan became a strangled whimper. "Not while I'm here."

"Dr.L-Lecter," he gasped, and he felt Hannibal's other hand on his thigh, squeezing. He wanted it up around his neck, forcing control over the breaths he could take, feeling his pulse. Wanted it in his hair, pulling until there was fire in his skull- more so than he already had.

Wanted fingers shoved into his mouth for him to suckle on, to tease with his tongue, to be replaced by Hannibal's own cock when the doctor deemed fit. He wanted more than what he was being given.

"Please," Will pleaded, but the pace remained slow and steady, not enough to bring him off, just enough to keep him so hard his cock ached.

"What do you want, Will?" The hand on his thigh squeezed again. "Tell me all of it. Let your tongue guide the fever from your skull."

"Your hand. O-on my...m-my throat." Hannibal removed his hand from Will's thigh, leaned up into his body and gripped his throat, felt his heart, erratic and racing, hammering through his veins against his hand. He squeezed, gently, did not cut off air but reminded Will that he could. Will groaned, pushed up into his hand again. "Yesss, like t-that. And in my h-hair. Pulling. Fire. I want your fire."

Hannibal chuckled, kept a hold of Will's throat, twisted his fist once around the head of his cock and drew a broken, loud gasp from his throat. Will opened his eyes, trembling, new he'd be gone if he could get that once, twice more.

"Want your cock in my mouth," he breathed, "c-choke me with it, let me taste you. Need it." The hand around his throat squeezed, as did the one around his cock, and Hannibal was breathing against his fever lips.

"Tell me William, do you like my cock?"

"Yes!" Will arched, bringing a low chuckle from Hannibal's throat. "Love when you force it in my mouth. H-Hannibal." Hannibal shivered over Will dropping the formalities, stroked him slightly faster. "Wish you'd fuck me."

Hannibal groaned, bowed his head so his forehead pressed to Will's. He twisted his hand around the head of his cock again, and the pressure in Will's spine became unbearable. He sobbed, so fevered he couldn't feel the chair beneath him, just the cool press of both of Hannibal's hands, his forehead.

"A-again, please, please doctor." He arched, nearly screamed as Hannibal stroked him finally in earnest. "Hnnn, let me cum, I need it. Please doctor, please." Hannibal smirked, but Will couldn't see it. His hand twisted around the head of his cock for a final time, and Will's eyes rolled back, felt the fire burning in his skull as he let out a strangled cry, let the pressure force the inferno from his flesh in a flood of orgasmic bliss, bursts of white fire behind his eyes and Hannibal pressing his cool palm against his hammering pulse-

"Will?"

Will opened his eyes, panting, the fire gone from him. He stared at Chilton, the shape taking form before his eyes. He felt the restraints on his arms, the IV that had leaked poison into his body, given him the ability to revisit such a memory so vividly.

"You were moaning Dr. Lecter's name," he stated, a look of intrigue in his eyes, "and that was quite a show."

Will licked his lips, shifted, felt the stickiness confined in his underwear now, the evidence of his release. "You wish I could moan your name like that."

Chilton looked up from his notes, found Will's gaze and held it. Will saw there was truth in that stare, and could only smirk, at the very corner of his lips. "I'm canceling all your appointments with him." Chilton's voice was iron with a hint of dust, powered distaste at the truth being known. Will thrived on the power it shoved up into his veins.

"It was worth it." He almost chuckled, a sound to mirror that of Hannibal's in his mind, but resisted. Then, shifting again, "So how about another dose, doctor? I could go for another round." 

This time, when Chilton lost his grip on his pen, Will did chuckle.


	26. It's the thought that counts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hughdancysexual](http://hughdancysexual.tumblr.com/) needed some fluff, and I was more than happy to try and come up with something happy and a little silly c:

Will stepped out of his car, staring at his lit up house, heaving a sigh. Hannibal's Bentley was sitting where it had been hours prior, when Will was called out to the lab and ending what would have been a pleasant evening between the two. He had of course told Hannibal he was free to head home, but was openly pleased the man had decided to stay.

He walked up to the door, letting himself in, noted that Hannibal's jacket and waist coat were left folded one on his desk, his tie draped on top. Will clicked his tongue, confused, and called out, "Hannibal?" only to hear a chorus of barking, then the clicking of nails as the dogs burst forward. He heard Hannibal's voice, saying words he didn't recognize, and noticed that one of the larger dogs was wet, and that Henry was still covered in suds.

"Oh lord," he breathed, started laughing, and tried to herd them back towards the bathroom. He found Hannibal on his knees, next to the tub, shirt sleeves rolled up, looking defeated. His shirt was soaked, and his hands were covered in suds, the dog shampoo open and sitting on the edge of the tub. "What are you doing?" Will laughed through his words, laughed more when Henry waddled back in and Hannibal grabbed him, giving a small victory cry and getting him back in the tub.

"I know you planned on giving them baths this weekend, and I thought since I was here with the time, I would save you the trouble."

"Not an easy job, is it?"

"Not in the slightest." Will laughed, stripped his jacket off and tossing it over the sink. He rolled his own sleeves up, called to the dog that was still wet, and began toweling her off, sitting on the toilet lid so he could reach better.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I thought it would be a pleasant surprise." Hannibal began to rinse Henry off, who barked, insistently, leaving the doctor grimacing. "Although nothing about the experience has been pleasant."

"Here, let me." He took the shower head from Hannibal, handed him the towel, and slipped down onto the floor, hushing Henry as he rinsed the suds away. The dog quickly quieted, and Will managed to get him rinsed in a matter of minutes, just as Hannibal finished toweling off the other dog. "Henry never liked baths."

"I could tell."

Will grabbed another towel, scooping the small dog up in it and drying him as he snuggled him to his chest, could feel the dog's tail going wild. "You didn't need to do this. But thank you."

"I'm afraid I did not reach my goal. Winston and Buster have not been bathed." Will laughed.

"How about we do it this weekend, and I'll show you all the tricks. It can be a date." Hannibal chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up, his back sore from being bent over the tub for so long.

"William, I can think of a hundred better ideas for dates then washing your pack. But," he sighed, showing his hands in defeat, "I agree, if only for the joy of your company."

Will laughed, leaning forward and kissing Hannibal's cheek. "Since you went through all the work with the dogs, how about I make dinner?"

This time, it was Hannibal's turn to laugh, as they made their way from the bathroom. "Will, I appreciate the gesture- but I would have to be very tired to sit back and watch you cook dinner."

"Are you saying you don't like my cooking?" Will pouted, or attempted to, the corners of his lips still quirked up.

"I'm saying, my dear boy," Hannibal continued, "that the kitchen is where my skills lie- and the dogs were yours do."

Will laughed, didn't argue, and leaned into Hannibal's damp chest, thinking they'd both have to change before they went anywhere near the kitchen.


	27. Be quiet for daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon sent me: "You have to be quiet, not a sound from those lips. Can you do that for Daddy, Will?" Will nodded gently, not daring to utter a response. He watched as Hannibal stroked him, that practiced hand turning just so, driving Will's senses to madness. Hannibal licked at the younger man's nipple; Will began to chew on his own lip, he mustn't moan. When Hannibal's mouth moved down along his stomach, nibbled at hips, then began to tease his aching head, Will felt the warmth of blood oozing from his lips."
> 
> Of course I went ahead and finished the scene.

Despite the blood, Will kept his lip between his teeth, even as Hannibal's mouth closed around his head, sucked sweetly, his hand stroking along his shaft. His other hand was stroking Will's thigh, leaving behind crackling fire that went straight to his balls and the base of his spine. Will tipped his head back, closed his eyes, Hannibal's words echoing in his skull.

He had to be quiet for his daddy. He didn't want daddy to be mad.

Will spread his thighs more, rocked up gently, and Hannibal swallowed him down more, all the way until Will was deep in his throat, Hannibal's nose pressing to the thatch of dark curls along Will's groin. The brunet was quivering, beyond worked up from the torment he'd received before Hannibal's mouth had found his cock, could feel everything building up in him. 

But he couldn't cum if his daddy didn't tell him to.

And he couldn't tell his daddy he needed to, if he was quiet.

Will finally abandoned his lip, swollen and smeared with a hint of blood, gritted his teeth together and tossed his head. Hannibal looked up, pulled off his cock and Will almost whined. "Is my sweet boy close?" Will nodded, and Hannibal smiled, dragging his tongue along the head of his cock. "Do you want to cum, William?" Will nodded, staring down at the way Hannibal's mouth seemed so obscene, lips stretching when he'd sucked on the head of his cock for a moment, before his tongue would work along the velvety skin. "You can cum, darling boy- buy you must remain quiet."

With that, Hannibal sucked Will back into his mouth, into a wet heat that had Will's head spinning. He sucked his abused lip back into his mouth, quivering all over, rocking with each bob of Hannibal's head, until it was too much to handle, and he was tearing at the seams. Hannibal was pulling back when the orgasm raced through Will, when he bit until there was more blood in his mouth, his semen coating Hannibal's tongue, then his lips, one cheek, as the doctor pulled off entirely.

Will shook, even as it passed, stared down with wide eyes, silent and nearly hyperventilating with each breath through his nose, sure his daddy would be angry at him for the mess he made. Hannibal slid up between his legs, gripped Will's jaw so he released his lip, and smiled.

"Clean up your mess."

Will leaned forward, ran his tongue delicately along Hannibal's cheek, tasted his own seed along with the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. When he moved to Hannibal's mouth, lapped at his lips, the doctor kissed him, sucked his tongue into his mouth and tormented it. Will shook again, trembled, felt tears coming to his eyes, still trying to not utter a sound. 

One of Hannibal's hands reached up, ran along his curls, toying gently with them. "My good little boy," he breathed, "you were quiet just like daddy asked. Do you want a reward?" Will nodded, slowly, felt Hannibal's hand move down to his cheek, thumb caressing his skin. "Do you want your daddy to fuck you?" Will nodded again, body not satiated but burning for more. Hannibal chuckled, pressing one more kiss to Will's mouth.

"Okay my sweet boy, anything you want for being so good. But daddy has one request." Will nodded, still silent, and Hannibal's smile was devious, as he breathed against Will's lips, "This time, daddy wants you to scream."


	28. It's just water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon said, "Will is turned on by older men all that grey just makes him randy and he's embarrassed he has this kink but he and hannibal end up partially stripped for some reason (splashed with something toxic or boiling liquid or something) and Hannibal's grey bear chest and daddy tummy make little willy almost cum his pants thank you bye"
> 
> I could NOT pass this up.

Will hadn't meant to bump to pot of water, but he hadn't been looking, had pushed right into Hannibal, sloshed the liquid all over both of them. Thankfully, he hadn't set it to boil yet- thankfully, Hannibal hadn't been in one of his suits. Thankfully, it was _just water._

Hannibal hadn't been mad, and Will was grateful for that. He'd set to getting a towel to sop up the water, told Will to strip of his wet clothing so that he could get him something dry.

That was how Will found himself standing, shirtless, in Hannibal Lecter's kitchen.

He was balling up his shirt, heard Hannibal moving about behind him, but was too embarrassed to look him in the eye. He'd offered to help clean up, but Hannibal had insisted he not- that he could handle it. Finally, taking a deep breath, Will turned, ready to apologize again-

And found that, mirroring his image, Hannibal too had shed his shirt.

Will felt his breath rush out, took in the water that clung to his chest, the ashen hair that dusted it, down along the slight curve of Hannibal's belly. His cheeks went pink, flushed, and suddenly his pulse was pounding in his temples, his cock, his balls- even the base of his spine. Four points that suddenly screamed out _yes_.

Will choked back his words, screamed at himself to look away, dammit, but his eyes kept roaming Hannibal's chest, his stomach, back up. It was hard enough, some days, to keep his focus around the man- when his ashen blond hair looked more grey, when he had that authoritative fatherly look that drove Will up a wall.

He'd had a thing for older guys, as much as he tried to deny it, ignore it. He never told anyone- didn't dare, he put it to rest in the back of his mind until he was locked under his covers at night, thrusting into his fist and pretending that someone was tugging on his hair, telling him to be good, telling him what a good boy he was.

"Will?" Will snapped his eyes up to Hannibal's face. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh y-yeah. I'm fine."

"You were staring." Will's blush intensified.

"Uhm. Sorry. I just...I didn't...except to ever see you missing anything...clothing and all." He pressed his lips shut, hating himself. Hannibal's eyes flicked along him, the contours of his face, lingering for just a moment on his pink lips. 

"And your thoughts on the matter?"

"My thoughts?" Will took a step back, just as Hannibal took a step forward.

"Yes. You seemed to spend quite some time studying me, dear Will. Have you any thoughts?"

"A-about you?" Hannibal nodded, as Will took a final step back, his lower back bumping the counter. Hannibal, however, did not stop, but closed in, until he was close enough to touch, close enough that Will could smell his cologne and _goddamn it was good_. "Well I-I...uh...you...you look...good, I mean..."

"Do I now?" Hannibal leaned closer, and Will let out a small cry, an almost whine, part fear and fear arousal. Hannibal could hear both. "And why is that?"

 _Don't say it Graham. Keep your goddamn mouth shut_. "It's just-" Will shook his head, bit his lip for a moment. "Just that...I...like this sort of things." He trailed off, quietly, and Hannibal cocked his head to the side.

"What was that, Will? You will have to speak up."

Will shook his head, but Hannibal's eyes demanded answers, and he was stammering out, rushed and breathy, "I like g-guys like you. Older- I...I like this." He inclined his head to Hannibal's chest, and suddenly Hannibal's hands were grasping his, raising them and laying them flat on his chest. Will gasped, flexed his fingers without a thought, and Hannibal smirked, devilish and hot enough to leave Will a breath from orgasm.

"Do you now?" His hands left Will's, reached down for his hips, tracing the waist of his pants. Will nodded, ran his palms along Hannibal's chest, loving the feel to the point that he was a leaking mess in his underwear.

"Yeah," he breathed, the smallest sliver of his mind screaming at him to get a grip on himself. The majority of his brain was simply screaming _daddy please_. "I do. And you're...fuck Hannibal, you're prefect." He heard the sound of his pants being opened, felt Hannibal's fingers and knuckles on his skin as the doctor sought out his goal.

"Tell me what is so perfect about me, Will."

Will spurted, as Hannibal yanked the waistband of his underwear down, one hand grasping his cock- steel beneath velvet flesh- and pulling it into the cool air. Will gasped, his eyes rolling at that first touch, as Hannibal stroked him, once.

"F-fuck, everything," he forced out, leaning so heavily into the counter that it bit painfully into his lower back. "I think I could cum just looking at your chest." Hannibal chuckled, stroking him faster, and Will pushed towards that fist. "Your belly too. I-I think I wanna straddle you and just- just have you touch me til I cum. O-on you." Will threaded his fingers in Hannibal's chest hair, tipped his head forward. "Oh fuck Hannibal. Oh fuck." He was so close, could feel it building in him, couldn't stop his mouth, the words, the way his hips bucked. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum. Oh fuck oh fuck _oh fuck_."

Will pushed into Hannibal's fist, crying out, splashing his belly with his orgasm as he shook, body turning to static to putty, and then Hannibal was kissing him, biting his lower lip and taking the last bit of breath Will had.

The brunet felt dreamy then, clutching at his chest, letting Hannibal nearly fuck his mouth with his tongue, ravish him until he was sure he wasn't breathing and hadn't for some time, but it didn't matter. Only when Hannibal was pulling back, placing a hand on Will's shoulders and forcing him down to his knees, did he dare breath.

"Clean up your mess, Will." Will looked up at him, lower lip throbbing from Hannibal's teeth, the perfect pictured of a fucked out whore with his flushed cheeks and parted mouth. Then, dropping his eyes, ran his tongue along Hannibal's belly, up one trail of cum, daring to nip at his skin once it was swallowed, before kissing the flesh, whimpering, missing Hannibal's smirk over the possibilities that now lay before them.


	29. Delicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon said, "Darkdreamsofhannigram here - praise kink. Hannibal telling Will how good he tastes, and of course he leaves no part of Will's body untasted."

Hannibal groaned around Will's cock, his fingers pressing into his hips, feeling flesh and tissue give to his hold. The boy beneath his grip was mewling, squirming, pushing his cock up into Hannibal's mouth and spreading a salty perfection along his tongue. He pulled off, exhaled along the slick length.

"Your taste is a delicacy, dear Will," he breathed, loving the flush running along Will's cheeks and neck, down onto his chest. Loving the heaving of his chest and belly with each breath. "I could devour you ever night and I would always be starving."  
"D-don't talk like that, Hannibal," Will gasped, "I...I can't handle it."

"And why not?" He brushed his cheek along Will's cock, placing a kiss to his belly, tongue flicking the skin. "Even your skin is sweet."

"Hnn, Hannibal, don't-" Will tossed his head, pushing up at Hannibal kissed up his belly, along his chest, wrapping his lips around one nipple. He sucked lightly and Will pushed up, his erection digging into Hannibal's stomach.

"My sweet darling," Hannibal breathed, breath cool on hot, damp skin, making Will shiver. He crawled up further, found Will's mouth and kissed him, pressing his tongue past lips already abused from the night's beginning, loving the whimper that was torn from him. He tasted like wine- Hannibal had been sure to fill Will with it for courage- tasted like everything that made the man up. It was enough to leave Hannibal drunk on him, allowing his own naked hips to pushed down, his aching cock to rub against Will's. "The world could end to your taste,"

"H-Hannibal." Hannibal pressed down against his hips again, enjoyed the friction himself, before he rolled off of Will, grabbing him and flipping him over. The brunet gave a cry, before Hannibal was on him, parting flesh and pressing his mouth to his hole, tongue laving over it and leaving Will to scream, suddenly.

Hannibal chuckled, a warm puff of breath, traced the muscle with his expert tongue as Will began to pant, pushing back against his mouth and yet striving to rut against the mattress, needing release. Hannibal had intended to work the boy up, to fuck him an in of his life until his throat was raw from screaming, but suddenly giving Will release in this manner was far more pleasing.

"You would like it, William," he whispered, gave another lick, "If I ate you every night. You'd beg for it, I bet." The younger man whined. "You wouldn't need to though, beloved. You are far more than fit to be the main course at my table."

He pressed his tongue into Will, felt him shudder, reached down and cupped his balls gently. The brunet's head was tossing as he clutched violently at the pillows, at his lover's mercy as Hannibal's tongue fucked him in ways the doctor knew he loved. When he pulled back, his hand moved from Will's balls to his cock.

"I could eat you and never have my fill, Will. I would starve making you scream." He pressed his tongue against Will's hole again, groaning himself. "My delicious darling."

"H-Hannibal, you'll make me-"

"Make you cum? Is that your fear?" He grinned, continued to stroke Will, twisting his hand around the head of his cock. "Good. I want you to cum, Will. Knowing that your taste leaves me hard and aching, will haunt me even when your presence is lacking. You are a dream." He pressed his mouth to Will's hole again, tonguing him, and suddenly Will was screaming, trying to hide it in the pillow, his orgasm wrecking his body, a musical sound to Hannibal's ears.

Even when his cock had nothing left for Hannibal, he continued to worship Will with his tongue, leaving him breathy and squirmy, the touch too much but god did Will love it, and he knew. Hannibal knew so well- but knew his own needs, as well.

He hadn't been lying. He would eat his beloved until the morning came.


	30. Put on a show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sartorialcannibal](http://sartorialcannibal.tumblr.com/) asked, "Bonus smut: Hannibal making Will watch him jerk off, stripping himself naked and touching himself all over, rubbing his own nipples, tugging at his balls, moaning openly when he slides a finger inside his hole, cock leaking all over his belly, while Will is tied up with no means of relieving his own painful erection, until he finally comes, completely untouched, just from watching Hannibal cum all over his belly, with three fingers buried deep inside himself."

Hannibal liked the sight of Will as he was, ankles bound to the large chair he had dragged into his bedroom for just this occasion. Loved the splay of his thighs, the way his arms stressed against their bindings. He was staring at Hannibal with those wide eyes that simply begged the doctor to touch, taste, fuck and make him scream.

Hannibal himself was on his bed, knees splayed, one hand cradling his balls as the other thrust a slick finger inside himself. His hair had fallen along his forehead, loose and tussled, his mouth open as he groaned. His cock was ignored, hard from just tying Will up- and including the sweet torture he was inflicting upon himself, now aching, leaking against his belly.

"Keep your eyes on me, Will," Hannibal breathed, adding a second finger to his body and groaning, hand leaving his balls and dragging up his belly, over his chest. His palm rubbed along one nipple, sent fire through his chest, and he imagined Will pinching it with his teeth, frantic to prove a sort of dominance as he had his fingers inside Hannibal.

It wasn't often the doctor let him fuck him.

Will pulled on his bindings, couldn't free himself, bit at the tie that Hannibal had used as a gag. Hannibal chuckled, moved his hand up, grabbing at his own throat, and squeezing gently. "Are you enjoying your show, Will?" A toss of his head, and Hannibal's hand moved into his hair, tugging, dropping his head back to expose his throat as he rode his two fingers, loving the sweet stretch that gave him.

Will's own cock was red, resting against his belly, craving attention and pulsing with each thrust of Hannibal's fingers. The doctor could see it, clearly, and added a third finger to his body, grinning wickedly. "You would love to fuck me, would you not, dear Will?" Will nodded, frantically, thrashed but was not freed. Hannibal chuckled, but the sound was broken as his curled his fingers, arching, finding his own sweet spot and feeling a pressure in the base of his spine that threatened to burst with the single touch. 

He ran with it, curling again, again, groans turning to moans and cries, the kinds he rarely allowed himself to make. His eyelids were heavy but he forced them to stay open, watching Will watch him, watching the man choke on the air in his throat, gnaw at the tie in his mouth, wanting to bed Hannibal. Hannibal fucked himself deeper, harder, gave a sudden cry as it was too much, and everything tightened in him, suddenly, and his blood was screaming in his veins, cock pulsing his seed up onto his belly. His hand tightened in his hair, pulled, and Hannibal watched, through the white haze of his own orgasm, as Will spilled up onto his own stomach, his eyelids fluttering.

Satisfied, loving the feeling of power that surged through him at knowing he had caused Will's orgasm without even touching him, he pulled his fingers free and carefully got off the bed, making his way to Will. Hannibal dropped to his knees, ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of Will's cock, watched him writhe about. "Work yourself up again, beloved," Hannibal breathed, kissing the head of his cock. "You still have to fuck me."

He ran his tongue along Will's belly, lapping up his mess, as the brunet's eyes rolled back in euphoria.


	31. Mads/Hugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [memorypalaceofwillgraham](http://memorypalaceofwillgraham.tumblr.com/) asked, "Due to that photo of Mads sprawled in the chair, you get some Madancy porn thoughts: Mads and Hugh, slightly drunk, and Hugh (being the fantastic drunk he is), teasing Mads by straddling his lap. "Oh, I can dance also." And then teasing turns to something else and Mads just hold his hips and licks at Hugh's neck as Hugh grinds down on Mads's outstretched leg, sliding his hands up under Mads's shirt. Mads tangles his fingers in Hugh's hair and tells him to slow down, love, they have all night."

"Oh, I can dance also," Hugh breathed, his drink mostly gone and clutched in one out stretched hand as he straddled along one of Mads's thighs. He was laughing, there was music playing and neither remembered turning it on, but they were deep into the night and the alcohol, and it didn't matter.

Mads was laughing, as Hugh rocked his hips along his thigh, head tossed back, his throat exposed. Mads watched him swallow, once, before reaching out, grasping the younger man's hips and leaning forward, finding his neck and tracing his tongue along its curves. Hugh froze, his breath rushing out, and then a moment later the rocking against Mads's thigh turned rougher, almost like rutting, and the gentle pressure that had been a teasing erection pressing down against his thigh was clear to Mads.

"Fuck," Hugh breathed, and Mads reached up with one hand, taking his drink, setting it aside. He sucked gently at the man's throat, body feeling light, weightless, warm from the alcohol, and Hugh was openly grinding, squirming and whimpering as the hand at his hip tightened. Hugh reached down, slipped his hands under Mads's shirt, pushing up, loving the feeling of warm skin beneath his palms. 

Mads heard another whimper and reached up, tangled a hand in Hugh's curls, smiling at him like a charming devil. "Slow down love," he breathed, searching for his throat again, "We have all night."

"No reason we can't s-start off early," Hugh breathed, and the hand at his hip was cupping his erection then. His breath hissed out as Mads's palmed him, worked him through clothing, chuckling. The brunet leaned closer, down into the crook of his neck as his pants were opened, nuzzling his hair and inhaling the smell of cigarettes.

His cock was hot in Mads's hand, velvety skin that he wanted to suck between his lips. Ah, but later, he would get Hugh off before the man burst at the seams and then work him up again.

He had done it before. It was honestly his preferred way to spend the night with him.

Hugh groaned, squirming his arms free from between the two and wrapping them around Mads, clutching at his back, gripping his shirt tightly between his hands. The hand that stroked him knew every nerve, knew them well from never enough time spent together.

"Wanna cum for me Hugh?" Mads mumbled into him, kissing his temple, and Hugh was nodding, drunk on the man beneath him and the mess of alcohol he'd had. Drunk and not caring and nodding into him.

"Please," he whispered, and Mads's strokes sped up, until Hugh as calling his name into his hair, clutching tighter as his hips bucked, as he left a mess behind in Mads's palm, along the ends of his sleeve. Only once Hugh had stopped pushing into his fist did he stop stroking him, only to force his head up, seeking his mouth for a kiss. The man's lips were pliant, tongue willing, easy to control, as he rode his high up to the ceiling.

"Oh Hugh," Mads breathed, nipping at his lower lip, "I am going to fuck you so well tonight."

Hugh accepted another nip to his lower lip, his body almost numb. The feeling would come back soon, and he'd want it, then. He'd scream for it.

He didn't doubt Mads's promise at all.


	32. Spanking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [memorypalaceofwillgraham](http://memorypalaceofwillgraham.tumblr.com/) said, "Will sometimes pokes at the softeness of Hannibal's little tummy. Hannibal will regally ignore it until Will goes too far (what's wrong, old man, getting tired), and then Hannibal will show the strength he possess, scooping Will up effortlessly and laying him over his knee. He spanks Will until he is crying out breathlessly, his fingers knotting in his hair. Afterwards, Hannibal lets him kiss his belly in apology, which Will does happily, tears on his checks and the sweetest smile on his face."

Will was sprawled on the couch, head in Hannibal's lap, slightly light from the wine from dinner- and the class he'd had after. He was getting into a habit with the doctor, but he saw no reason to stop.

He reached up, poking along the slight curve of Hannibal's stomach, much easier to see in just his button down, versus his three-piece suit. Will giggled, feeling almost childish, noticed Hannibal heave a sigh.

"Will-"

He was cut off by another giggle as Will did it again, grinning to himself. Hannibal gritted his teeth, what was typically endearing in his lover feeling a bit of an annoyance after a long day. 

"Stop me," Will breathed, with another poke, and suddenly Hannibal was grabbing him, lifting him up and flipping him, dropping him into his lap without ceremony. He grabbed Will's waistband, yanking all of his clothing down beneath the curve of his ass in a fluid motion as the brunet squirmed, gasping. "Hannibal, what-"

There was a crack as palm met skin, and Will howled suddenly, trying to shrink away from the touch. Hannibal held him steady, raised his hand again and smacked the pliant flesh, staring down with steady eyes.

"If you're going to act like a child, Will," he said almost stoically, "you will be punished like a child."

"Hann-"

Another crack, and Will howled as his flesh started to redden. Hannibal smirked, just at the corners of his mouth, smacking again, as Will writhed, groaning.

"Oh fuck, Hannibal stop."

"Don't use that language with me." Another spank, and Will bit his lip. Hannibal could feel the solid press of his cock against his thigh, knew the man was enjoying it even if Will himself didn't realize it. He spanked again, loved the sound of flesh on flesh, and Will groaned, tossing his head back.

"Fuckin' Christ Hann-"

"Language!" Another slap, and Will choked back a sudden sob, his ass red and tender. "Ask me nicely, Will. Naughty boys never get what they want."

Another smack, and Will sobbed again, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. "Okay, H-Hannibal please." One more smack, and Will howled openly, writhing, tossing his head, a broken "please" leaving his lips in a strangled gasp, and Hannibal stopped- settled his hand down on the red curve of his ass to stroke the sensitive flesh.

"That's better." He stroked, gently, and Will mewled, once, shifted, trying to avoid the sudden wet mess he had left behind in his underwear, but unable to.


	33. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super short ficlet for [dweeby](http://dweeby.tumblr.com/) because she's a darling <3

Will stretched out on the bed, groaning, on his belly. His muscles were in tight knots, screaming from Jack at the lab having seeped into the muscle and turned them to iron tangles. Face in the pillow, he breathed, heard Hannibal shifting about the bedroom. 

He felt terrible, showing up in such sorry shape- figured he should have canceled, but he’d wanted to see the doctor so badly. And he had, upon entering the house, been ushered upstairs and told to lie down, on his belly.

"Hannibal," he mumbled into the pillow, "What’re you doing? I’ll be fine, I’ll just take some aspirin. Let’s have dinner-"

"Hush." The older man had moved back to the bed, and Will felt it dip as he crawled on, felt his waist as he straddled the back of his thighs. Hannibal leaned over him, pressing his hands to his shoulders, kneading the muscle with just the right amount of pressure that drew a pained sigh from Will.

"Shit," Will breathed, as Hannibal did it again, working down along his shoulder blades. "That hurts so good." They shared a laugh as Hannibal worked at his spine, felt the knobs of the vertebrae beneath cloth and flesh and muscle, felt Will slowly relaxing, turning to liquid beneath him. Once he reached the base of his spine he pulled the pressure out along his sides, worked back up to focus on Will’s neck and shoulders, were he found still more tension.

"You let this job get to you," Hannibal whispered against Will’s groans, "More than it should. Do not allow Jack under your skin."

"Why? Because there’s only room for one person there, and you already agreed to the lease?"

"Precisely." Hannibal pulled back, moving off of Will as the brunet rolled onto his side, staring at him, propping himself up on one arm. Will could only smile over his response, a play against his pink lips that brought a small laugh from Hannibal as he dipped his head down. He reached out for Will, ran a hand along his upper arm, keeping the smile his laugh had left stained on his lips. "And I do intend to keep this house up."

Will rolled his eyes, put turned as Hannibal tried to stroke his cheek, pressing his mouth to his palm in a sweet kiss. “You better,” Will whispered, glancing at him, “Because no one else is willing to.”

He kissed his palm again, body now water held together by velvet flesh, and did not doubt that Hannibal would indeed care for him, endlessly.


	34. Preller SickFic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked about a Preller sick fic, and then followed up with, "Preller anon here! I think Brian getting sick but it doesn't really matter. Maybe a stomach thing? But again it doesn't matter! However I would like it to be just comfort and fluff. :D"
> 
> This sat in my drafts for far too long. I need more practice with Preller.

"Brian!" The man looked up, caught Beverly staring at him with dark eyes and an annoyed smile. "Dude, pass me that report. I’ve asked like three times now."

"Sorry," he mumbled, grabbing the folder next to him and sliding it down the table. She grabbed it, inclining her head and studying him.

"You look like shit," she pointed out.

"Gee thanks Bev."

"No seriously. You sick?" Brian shrugged a shoulder, feeling clammy under his shirt. His stomach was tied in horrible knots, his spine slick with a cold sweat. His eyes and mouth felt like cotton, and he would have killed to lie down, right then and there. Beverly frowned, pushing her chair back and walking over, pressing her hand to his forehead. "Shit, you are. You’ve got a fever."

"It’s no big deal," Brian muttered, as the door opened and Jimmy walked in, smiling. The smile dropped off when he saw Beverly leaning over Brian, looking worried.

"Something the matter?"

"The kid here is sick," Beverly said, and Brian wanted to give her a good punch to her arm. He was no kid- he was her age. But he couldn’t argue with the sick portion. He closed his eyes, the room threatening to spin. "I think he needs to go home."

"The case-"

"I’ve got it," Beverly said, "Graham will be here when his lecture is done. He and I can work on it, maybe Jimmy can drive you home?" She looked over at the man, who nodded.

"Of course." He walked over, resting a hand between Brian’s shoulder blades. "I’ll drive you home and get you settled in. I can always come back and help after, if you’re so concerned." Brian looked up at him, and gave a nod, accepting help up from his chair. Beverly let Jimmy walk with an arm around him, staying back in the room with the case file.

*

The drive to Brian’s apartment was fairly quick, and both men were thankful for that. Jimmy helped him up the flight of stairs, took his keys and opened the door, getting him inside. The moment the door was closed, Brian was pulling his jacket off, an extra layer of heat having risen up under his skin, making his insides feel cooked.

"I feel like an inferno," he mumbled, chucking his jacket over a chair and working on the buttons of his shirt. Jimmy hurried behind him, stopping to touch his forehead.

"Jesus you’re burning up. We need to cool you off."

"I just need to lay down-" Jimmy was shaking his head, hurrying to Brian’s kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards. He found a bottle of Tylenol and popped two from the bottle, getting a glass of water and hurrying towards Brian’s bedroom, where the younger man had escaped to. He stood, naked from the waist up, pulling his socks off in the dark room.

"Take these," Jimmy said, offering the pills out. Brian rolled his eyes but popped them into his mouth, swallowing them down with the water, and then continuing to drink until the glass was gone. His throat felt like he had swallowed a cactus, but the rush of water made his stomach roll.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself, resolving that he would in fact not throw up, if it killed him.

"Take a cold shower," Jimmy was saying, "it will help with your fever."

"I just want to sleep," Brian nearly whined, and the older man closed in, pressing his hands along Brian’s face, they felt cool compared to his skin and his eyes closed, mouth parting.

"After," Jimmy soothed, running his fingers back into Brian’s hair. "At least for a few minutes. You’ll feel better after." Brian sighed, begrudgingly and silently agreeing. He stalked off to the bathroom, stripping along the way so that by the time he reached his shower, he was down to just his pants. He turned the water on- left it cold- and stripped, stepping in and hissing as it made contact with his fever skin.

It was so cold it shocked his system, made him tense, but the way it seemed to appease the fire in his skin had him leaving the temperature alone. A minute in, he began to relax, the fever temporarily eased by the chill. Brian ran his hands back through his short hair, shoving his face into the spray, aching but no longer burning.

When he finally stepped out, he found a towel waiting for him. He hadn't even heard Jimmy enter the bathroom, or leave, and it was almost terrifying that he had been so lost in the change within his body- the shift from fire to neutrality. 

He dried off, wrapping it around his waist, and heading back to his bedroom. He found his blanket pulled back, a pair of cotton pants and a t-shirt left out for him. And no Jimmy in sight. Brian frowned, but dressed, tossing the towel to the side and deciding he could deal with it later. His fever felt lower, but there was still an ache in his bones. He crawled into bed, was reaching for the blanket when Jimmy appeared, carrying a fresh glass of water, complete with ice. He set it on Brian's nightstand, then grabbed the blanket, pulling it up over him.

Jimmy reached out, pressed his wrist to Brian's forehead. "You feel a little cooler."

"I feel a little better," Brian corrected with a lazy smile, settling in among his pillows. Jimmy smiled.

"Sleep will help even more. I can stay, if you want. Beverly can handle the lab on her own." Brian furrowed his brow, and Jimmy was sure the man would say no, stubborn as he was- but then there was a smile on his lips- tired, but there.

"On one condition," he started, pulling the blanket down on the other side of the bed. "You stay right here." Jimmy glanced at the space, then back at Brian, and thought to question him, to say he was out of his mind and maybe his fever was worse- they weren't drunk, it was the middle of the day-

But he kept his mouth shut and walked around, pulling his sweater off and popping the first two buttons on his shirt. He crawled in, as Brian rolled to face away, leaning back into him. Out of instinct, he let an arm curl around the younger man, who relaxed.

"Yeah, like that," he murmured, and Jimmy could tell he was so exhausted he was already half asleep. He pulled him closer, dared to ghost his mouth along the hot skin at the back of Brian's neck.

"Go to sleep," he whispered, allowing himself to relax into the pillows. "I'll be here, if you need me."

"Promise?"

"Promise."


	35. Lip gloss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Will tries on pretty pink lipgloss in the mirror. He keeps taking it off and trying to put it on in a way that's subtle and doesn't make him look like a slut. Eventually he gives up, but Hannibal smells its scent on him, and he can certainly taste it."

Will braced his hands on his sink, leaning forward to look at himself in the mirror. Brown curls, tussled and wild as usual- eyes grey and blue, a flecked storm-

And now, a set of pink, glossy lips. He inclined his head, slowly, watched the light play along his mouth, the glisten his lips had, the rich pink, more noticeable than even his usual natural shade. He blushed, slightly, felt a shiver along his spine. He felt attractive, put together-

Pretty.

His cheeks flushed more, and he reached for a tissue, wiping it off quickly. He couldn't go out like that. Especially not to Hannibal's for dinner. Still, he missed the color, and grabbed the tube off the back of the sink, opening it and gently running the brush along his lips. He pursed them, dabbed at them with the tissue to lessen the effect. Still, he found it too noticeable- was sure that any slight variation in his mouth would be too easy to spot, paranoid now of Hannibal discovering what he had done.

He really liked the man- he thought that maybe he'd find a little stability with him, with the relationship they were feeling out. He didn't want to ruin it because of...of this.

Will didn't have a word for it.

He shoved the lip gloss in his pocket, planning to leave it securely in his desk, but finding distraction in the dogs going wild over a chipmunk that had made its way onto his porch. Once he had them settled, he left to his car, to make the drive to Baltimore.

*

Hannibal heard the door from the kitchen, and wiped his hands as he turned the stove off, having just finished plating the food. He untied his apron, leaving it on the counter as he walked to the door, smiling to himself- knowing who was waiting. As expected, Will stood at his doorstep, looking rather fidgety and every sense of the word delectable. Hannibal's smile grew for him.

"Hello Will."

"Hi," the brunet offered, eyes glancing up to Hannibal's, then back to the bridge of his nose. Ah, that eye contact- someday Hannibal was sure he'd have Will better trained with it. Someday.

Hannibal stepped aside, allowing Will in, and closed the door, watching as Will removed his jacket and hung it up. When he turned, Hannibal caught his arm, tugging him in closer and giving him a devilish smile before stealing a kiss, a quick press of his lips that had Will going rigid, had the doctor wanting to wrap his arms around the younger man and feel him squirm.

This kiss, Hannibal realized, felt slightly different. Will's lips tasted almost fruity, a cherry sort of sugary sweetness, a scent to them as well. One feminine in memory.

Hannibal pulled back, saw Will's eyelids had grown heavy, lips parted, and let his hand move from the man's arm to encircle his waist.

"Will," he whispered, leaning in to breath into his ear, "What have you put on your lips?" The younger man tensed, suddenly, squirmed to pull away, and Hannibal held tight.

"Nothing," he nearly gasped, and Hannibal shook his head.

"I can taste it. Show me." Hannibal had only guessed that perhaps Will had the item with him, and was pleased when, after a moment of blushing, Will reached into his pocket, producing the small tube. Hannibal eyed it, but did not move to touch it- only released his hold on Will. He stepped away, walking in slow, careful strides, happy to hear Will following him, a moment later, through the house and up the stairs. Into the bedroom, and the master bath, Hannibal stood aside so Will could enter, gesturing towards the large mirror over his sink. "Show me," he whispered again, and Will's cheeks turned damn near cherry red.

"Hannibal." His voice was a whine, embarrassed and pleading, but the doctor shook his head, gesturing once more. Will slumped his shoulders, saying nothing as he unscrewed the top of the lip gloss, moving the brush along his lips carefully, giving an even coat. Hannibal watched, did not move until Will had closed the tube and set it aside, not turning to face Hannibal- looking very intently into the mirror as if looking away would cause a crack to appear in the world.

"Look at me." A moment of hesitation, and then Will turned, first simply his head, and then his whole body, palms out by his sides in surrender. Hannibal studied Will's mouth, the change in color, the shine, the allure that had already been inhumanly strong now that of a god- or goddess.

"Do you know what I see, Will?" He shook his head, and Hannibal took a step closer. "I see a very vulnerable man. I see a man terrified of his own mind's attractions and desires- a man who attempts to embrace in secrecy things he does not understand- and thus, that terrify him." Another step, and he reached out, cradling Will's face in one hand, thumb stroking his jawline. Will's eyes flicked to the side, to Hannibal's wrist- the most he could see of his hand- and then back. There was a quiver to him that had Hannibal's heart nearly skipping a beat. "But do you know what I see most?" Another shake of his head. Hannibal smiled, softly, leaning closer to breath his answer against Will's mouth. "Beauty."

He kissed him again, a perfect angle that had Will's lips moving like liquid against his own, slick and sweet and so enticing Hannibal couldn't help but give a soft groan, wrapping his free arm around Will. "Never be afraid around me," he whispered, stealing another kiss. "Allow me to see all of you, dear Will. No matter what illusionary boundaries and lines you feel that may cross." Another kiss, and Hannibal found he could not fight the allure of that mouth. "Do you understand?"

Will hesitated, before his arms wound up around Hannibal's neck, and he pressed flush to his chest, kissing him again. Hannibal's eyes widened at the raw passion for a brief moment, before they closed, his hold tight around his lover. Between the perfect movement of lips, he was sure he heard Will whisper, "thank you," but didn't need to. He could tell, from the near desperate press of his lips, from the way his fingers gripped at the ends of Hannibal's air, that the man was far more thankfully for the acceptance than he could voice.


End file.
